Anomaly
by Archaeological
Summary: Her classmates at Meiou may think that she's a fidgety weirdo, but she knows that nobody is stranger than Shuuichi Minamino. Be it chance or fate what made them meet at the local hospital, Makoto's uneventful life would never be the same again after that day. [Slight Kurama/OC.]
1. Chapter 1

I don't know if this will grow into something bigger, but for now, here's an intro.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

The sun was bright, the birds chirped, and Makoto's classmates were being raucous, as usual. Another Monday morning. She leaned back on her seat and stared at the window two desks to her left, running her fingers through her coal black hair. If she had been the protagonist of a manga, her desk would have been that one in the corner, at the back of the class and next to the window. As things were, she had to stare at it from afar and deal with being in the middle of the classroom, with people moving around her all the time.

She prepared for the impact. _Three, two, one…_

A crash, and somebody tumbled over a chair to her right. She didn't look at it. She didn't need to. In fact, there was a chance that if she did, someone would blame her for it.

They were so loud. Why wouldn't the teacher come already…?

She stared vacantly at the sky outside, feeling acutely the presences of the people in the room. Takeda, behind her, was feeling down. She'd flunk the next chemistry test. Fukui, visible from the corner of her eye, was coming up with something. A flu? Sasaki kept sneaking glances at Yoshida. He'd confess that afternoon and she'd turn him down.

Being bombarded like this bothered her when she was little, but she was used to it now. If only she had any interest in her classmates' teenage problems, she could have had a lot of fun.

A new person came into the room. Shuuichi Minamino. The anomaly.

He sat two desks away from her, right where a manga protagonist would. He entered her field of vision soon enough, apologizing his way between students and catching the longing gazes of many.

He was an anomaly because he wasn't human. He stuck out like a sore thumb in a place full of reiki, demonic energy rolling from him like waves of cheap cologne. And he was concealing it, too. To the trained eye, he was the equivalent of the shifty guy in the train that nobody wants to sit next to because you're sure he's carrying a knife in his pocket, but people just _flocked_ to him because it didn't show on the surface. He was the only subject Makoto considered worthy of study in the entire school.

He also was, easily, the most inaccessible of them all, what with always having people vying for his attention.

Her stare traveled to the two girls who were chatting him up. They were notorious for pestering him every chance they got. They would ambush him after the last class. She felt kind of sorry for him, and in a moment of weakness wondered if she should tell him about it. Then again, that would mean walking up to Minamino, say in front of her companions that she knew something she shouldn't, and be the talk of the class again. Was it worth it?

She remembered then that she would skip school the next few days. It could be fun, in that case.

She stood and walked up to them, tapping a few people on the shoulder to make way and spooking most of them with her trademark stony face. She had gathered an audience before she could reach the anomaly.

"Please excuse the interruption, Minamino." Her voice was quiet and had a raspy quality, as if not making much use of it had made it shrivel up. It added to the creepy effect. She liked it. "I thought you would like to know that Chiba and Amano are planning to corner you in the hallway of the chemistry lab after class. The baseball team will not be out on the field yet, so you may use the window to escape if necessary."

Which wouldn't be. The girls had gone white as a sheet. They wouldn't try anything.

The anomaly blinked twice, studied her face with keen eyes, and after he ascertained whatever he was looking for, he smiled politely. "Thank you, Kodama. It is certainly good to know."

With a small dip of her head, she said, "Glad to be of service," and retreated to her seat. This time the crowd parted for her, and she felt accomplished at having creeped out her entire class and done a good deed at the same time. Poorly concealed gossip would keep her entertained for the rest of the day.

—

Makoto Kodama was (purportedly) fifteen and had the soul of a bitter old woman. According to her parents and several psychologists, it was due to the deep trauma she underwent when her biological mother abandoned her. According to herself and people who knew better, it was because she saw the idiocies people were about to commit all the time, and, usually, no amount of warnings would manage to stop them.

Ever since she was able remember, she had seen things. Ghosts, people's energy, events that hadn't yet happened. It was normal for her, but she said it out loud a few times when she was little and her parents started dragging her to doctors and therapists. When she advised someone not to do something, they wouldn't pay any attention to her. And as she got older, mostly after especially disastrous outcomes, some would point at her and say she had jinxed it, so she just stopped warning others.

Makoto sat in a hospital room next to her grandmother, who was sleeping soundly. The woman had suffered a heart attack the same day she had spoken to Minamino, and she had decided to spend the following days keeping her company while her parents worked.

Her grandmother had exactly nine more days to live. Makoto had told her weeks beforehand so that she could be ready when the time came. She had never dismissed her. She said oddities ran in the family, and had introduced her to somebody who could help with her powers.

Makoto would stay by her side until she left. She owed her that much.

She was reading one of the required books for Japanese class when two nurses asked her to leave the room. Taking off her reading glasses, which hung on a chain with tiny decorative beads around her neck, she vacated the room quickly, and apparently she wasn't the only one who had been shooed out to the hallway.

 _The_ Shuuichi Minamino stood outside a room at the other end of the corridor, and for a change, he was alone. Now that was something she hadn't seen coming.

He noticed her stare and reciprocated it. Social rules dictated that they should walk up to each other and engage in small chat. Makoto was disdainful of such conventions as only an outcast fifteen year old could be, but she figured she could learn a little more about her enigma if she played nice.

His energy felt duller, subdued as she approached. There was a dark edge about it. Whatever the reason he was in the hospital, it had hit him hard.

"Hi, Kodama. I hadn't expected to see you here."

A lie? Surely their homeroom teacher had told the class of her situation.

"Likewise," she said. "Who are you here for?"

His gaze was analytical, and he stared at her like she was a puzzle to solve. She thought it was ironic.

"You don't know?"

She huffed lightly. "Despite what rumors you may have heard at school, I do not know everything."

"That is good to know as well." He glanced at the window of the room. The shutters were open, and there was a woman in her late thirties, sitting on a bed and talking to a doctor. "My mother fainted yesterday. The doctors have ordered some tests and the results aren't promising."

Makoto walked closer to the glass. She could feel Minamino's piercing stare with every step, but she wanted to take a better look at his mother.

Young, too young. Her hair was long and black, like Makoto's own. She looked worn. Her energy was fading, and when Makoto concentrated on it, she had a flash of the woman, like a movie still, surrounded by doctors, lying lifeless on that bed. It would happen soon. She blinked a few times, willing the vision away.

"You aren't human," Minamino commented behind her.

She didn't turn around. "Birds of a feather," she muttered, unimpressed. She had been sitting two desks away from the guy for months, after all.

"But you aren't a full-blooded demon."

"And you have a human body." She did turn to face him this time, and though her tone wasn't hostile, her eyes were sharp. "What is your point?"

"My apologies if I offended you. I was merely curious."

"That's okay." She played absentmindedly with the chain of her glasses. "My father was a demon, or so I am led to believe."

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two. Makoto stared at her feet, thinking she liked it better when he could examine him from afar.

"You're here for your grandmother, right?"

She lifted her head at once. This was a subject she could get behind of. "Yes. She will die soon. Nine days." She said in a clinical way that tended to make others uneasy. "I want to keep her company."

"You can tell when she'll die?"

A ghost of a shrug. "I have known her for a long time. It is easier that way."

"Did you see anything when you looked at my mother?"

Way to corner her in conversation. Even distressed as he was, he still thought clearly enough to maneuver his way with words. "You could have asked right away," she said icily. "I do not bite. I do not pose a danger to you. I do not associate with anybody who could, and it is actually refreshing to have someone ask instead of treating me as if I had grown a second head." Minamino began to open his mouth, but she cut him before he could begin. "And yes, I saw something."

He held his breath, and she didn't delay her reply, because she may have been creepy to the average Joe, but never cruel. "I'm sorry. She will not make it."

Minamino exhaled sharply, and Makoto felt genuinely bad for him. His energy grew restless but sharper. Supernatural powers aside, she could almost see the wheels of his mind turning.

"How long?"

She tilted her head left and right, slowly, then turned to the glass to look at the woman again. "I cannot tell," she said after a few tense seconds. "I would say less than two weeks, but I can't know for sure." She faced him again. "Sorry."

"A week, then," he muttered to himself. "Thank you, Kodama. You've been a great help. Again," he smiled weakly.

"Again?"

"Chiba and Amano."

"Ah…" She shuffled her feet. "It was nothing. I only did it because I was bored."

Although he still looked sad, the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement. "You spook people for fun?"

Feeling a little childish hearing it put like that, she mirrored his expression. "Don't you?"

—

He did.

Minamino was in the hospital every day after school, and he took to approach Makoto from the back every time. Perhaps he did it to make a point. Perhaps it was the highlight of his day, which, if she thought about it, had to be quite depressing. At any rate, in record time, he managed to have her on high alert from the moment the bell of Meiou High rang to whenever he decided to show up.

He also brought her homework. Makoto suspected he had a substantial sadistic streak.

He dropped a notebook full of math problems on her lap. Offended, she said, "Today you are going to buy a ham, cheese and lettuce sandwich. And you will regret it."

He halted mid-motion when he was about to hand her a stack of photocopies. "Did you actually see that?"

She looked up at him through her reading glasses, face impassive and golden chain reflecting the light of the hospital's fluorescent light. In all honesty, she couldn't make a single feature of his face with those on. "You have been cycling through all the sandwiches of the vending machine. Skip that one. The cheese is pasty." She lowered her glasses, looked into his eyes and confessed, "I tried it this morning."

She outstretched a hand, and Minamino put the papers on it.

"Have you been living off of the vending machines all these days?" He asked.

"No. Sometimes I go to the cafeteria. They have sobapan."

She was quite certain that her classmate was looking at her with a mix of concern and pity. Oh, how low she had fallen.

"How is your mother today?" She asked, trying to divert the subject.

"She's having a good day. She's only on analgesics. In fact," he said with a half smile, "she asked if she could meet you."

Makoto almost dropped all the school material she was balancing on her knees. "What."

"You. Her." He pointed at the room and made a walking motion with his middle and index fingers.

She glared at the offending fingers. The effect was more comical than menacing. "I meant why would she want to meet me."

"Because she saw you the other day through the window and she knows we're classmates."

"You told her?"

"Of course," and he added. "I think she'd like to see you, but you don't have to go if you don't want to."

She avoided his eyes and kept busy playing with some strands of her hair. Meeting new people was always stressful. "What else does she know?" She muttered.

"Just that you're here with your grandmother." He paused and added, "She doesn't know anything else. She doesn't know about me, either."

Her mouth opened a little and she stopped fiddling with her hair. "Why?"

It was Minamino's turn to look away from her. He didn't speak right away, and when he did, it sounded like he was talking about somebody else. "Originally, I lived in the Demon World, and I fled in spirit form to the Human World. I was gravely injured, and my only chance for survival was a woman that was carrying a newly conceived embryo. I took the place of her son."

Makoto couldn't believe her ears. The subject was volunteering the information she had been wondering about for months. "Then you are… what? A possession? A mix of the two?"

"Neither. Shuuichi Minamino, the real Shuuichi, has never existed. My soul inhabited his body before another could enter. His body and my spirit are a single entity now."

Makoto watched his body language out of the corner of her eye. It didn't betray anything. "Who are you?"

"…Excuse me?"

"You speak of yourself as opposed to Shuuichi. Who are you?"

This time, she caught his full attention with the question, and he looked at her again.

"My real name is Kurama. I was a thief in my former life."

The pieces that formed the enigma of Makoto's anomaly clicked together in place. ' _Kurama_.' Yes, it was fitting. It was wider, filled the spaces that 'Shuuichi' didn't cover. The human body with youki finally made sense.

But he wasn't done. "Because of me, her son never existed." Nothing about him wavered when he said it. His voice, his energy were a rock, yet there seemed to be a hint of sadness burrowed in his words. "I can't tell her that."

Makoto rarely had trouble reading people, but he was proving to be an exception to the norm. "But you _are_ her son."

He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. "Her son was dead before he was born. I'm under no illusions of what I am."

She played with the hem of her sleeves, curtains of hair concealing the sides of her face, when she said, "Now I understand why you don't treat me like a freak. I'm sure you're seen much stranger things than a girl who can guess the contents of your sandwich."

Kurama took some time to reply. "It would be hypocritical of me, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," she agreed, picking a loose thread from her dress, and declared, "I will visit your mother. I am curious about her."

She wanted to know if she was the kind of person that would find his actions unforgivable, or if it was just his guilt and fears talking. She wanted to know what kind of woman had been able to raise a demon into an overachieving member of society who was stealing the top grades from the rest of his class.

"Thank you. I think she'll appreciate seeing a new face. It's Kazuya and I all the time."

"Don't be so confident. I hear I do not make very good company." She put her things aside on a chair to get up and shook off some invisible dust from her skirt.

"I disagree with that assessment."

She hesitated before she said, "Keep the niceties for your fangirls."

Kurama chuckled, got up and started walking down the corridor. Makoto trailed close behind and waited outside the room until she heard Kurama's mother call her in.

—

Kurama was late the following day. Makoto's grandmother was sleeping again, so she went to Ms. Minamino's room to keep her company.

Despite the state of the woman, Makoto felt at ease with her. Ms. Minamino's aura appeared to be permanently embedded with positive emotions. Calmness, acceptance, love, they were all there in spite of the fading energy and its fraying edges, characteristic of terminal patients. She understood why Kurama wanted to keep her close.

She hadn't commented on her behavior or reacted to her negatively at all. Makoto was sure of it, because the cues were familiar and she had been looking for them. This woman wasn't judging her, and she was returning the favor by analyzing everything she and her son did. Way to go.

"He must have gotten caught up at school," Makoto said for the woman's benefit. "Teachers and students always need him for something or another."

"I'm glad to hear from someone else that he gets along with his classmates. I've never met a friend of Shuuichi's before you…"

"We have never talked before this week." Makoto didn't have friends in class either, and calling Kurama one would feel strange. "No offense intended, but I would hardly say that's friendship."

Ms. Minamino wasn't put off at all by her reply. "But do you plan on not talking anymore to him outside the hospital?"

It was official; this family had a knack for verbally cornering her. "No, I suppose I do not," she admitted shyly.

An arrival. _One, two, three…_

The hinges of the door creaked softly and Kurama walked in. "Hi, mom, sorry for—oh, I see you have company."

He smiled and Makoto felt instantly sick to her stomach. Something was wrong. There was a dark sort of energy around Kurama, noticeable for anybody with the smallest bit of spiritual sensitivity. It came from him, but he wasn't the origin. Whatever it was, it wasn't alive and it was tainting him, like a parasite.

She quickly excused herself and ran to the closest bathroom. She got inside a stall, threw up, and blamed the bacon, egg and mayo premade sandwich while she sat on a toilet lid and waited for her digestive system to settle down.

She had never felt an energy so twisted before. What had he done?

By the time she came out of the stall, Kurama was out of Ms. Minamino's room and lingering outside the bathrooms.

"Are you okay? You took so long that I came to check up on you."

"You are going to die," she blurted out, and it was more of an accusation than a warning.

He didn't show any outward changes, but the atmosphere got tenser. "As we all, someday," he said quietly.

She ignored him and insisted, "I don't know what you did today, but you are going to die. Throw away what you're carrying and get any funny ideas out of your head."

His expression hardened. "I can't do that."

She furrowed her brows, feeling cold sweat build up the more time she was near him. "What are you planning?"

"There's a way to help my mother."

She willed herself to ignore the negative energy he was emitting and look at his face. There was nothing but determination in there. She was fighting a losing battle.

"And you think you will come okay out of this?" She asked with incredulity.

His eyes were cold and detached, nothing like the personality he showed at school. "I know what will happen, and I intend to go through with it. Your concern is appreciated, but unneeded."

His words felt like a smack to the face. It served her right for caring. "I see," she said neutrally. "When will it be? You are running out of time."

"On the next full moon."

She lowered her gaze to her feet, gave a small nod, and walked past him. "I will be with my grandmother."

"Kodama," he called with a stern voice, and she paused, "if you try to interfere—"

"Please, spare me the threats. You are free to trash your life however you want."

He made no attempt to stop her again.

What a waste.

—

 _One, two, three._

Makoto opened the door to look into the hallway and saw Kurama with a punk in a Sarayashiki uniform. Should she approach them? She didn't want to miss the last day she'd have to talk to Kurama, but she didn't want to meet any new people. Tonight was supposed to be a night of goodbyes. Her grandmother, and either Kurama or Ms. Minamino. If things went very wrong, maybe the three of them.

She snuck a glance at the elderly woman on the bed and fiddled nervously with the chain of her glasses.

"Go, Mako," the woman said. "I still have a few hours left in me."

"I'll be back," she replied quietly.

"I know you will."

Makoto forced out a smile before leaving the room. Kurama saw her right away and flashed one of his own in her direction. Was it true or was it a fake one? It was impossible to tell with him.

What a waste. She had finally gotten to approach the anomaly, and she never got enough time to know him properly. That would teach her to leap to action sooner in the future.

"Hey," she said as a greeting.

"Hi." He was still smiling. Who was he trying to fool? "This is Yuusuke."

"Yo!" The boy grinned. "Nice to meet you, uh…"

"Makoto. Makoto is fine," she said, since Kurama had only volunteered the boy's first name. The reiki coming from him was higher than that of the average human. She looked sharply at Kurama. "What is going on?"

"Don't worry about it," he said nonchalantly, as if he didn't plan to commit suicide. It irked her to no end. "Can you keep an eye on my mother while I talk to Yuusuke?"

That was incredibly selfish of him.

"Sure."

"Thank you."

Ten minutes later, hospital personnel was speeding past her ( _"Her son is on the rooftop"_ ) rushing into the room, and pushing Kazuya Hatanaka outside. The man stood glued to the glass. Makoto was a few feet away from him, observing quietly. Kurama came back with Yuusuke, and the energy he carried was so powerful, so revolting that she screwed her eyes shut and tried to block it to no avail. She didn't want to see, didn't need to.

What a waste.

Kurama ran past her once again, and she didn't open her eyes to watch him go for the last time.

Soon after, there was a surge of negative energy on a floor above and the certainty that the woman on the other side of the glass wasn't going to die. It was done.

Makoto began to walk towards her grandmother's room. She was disappointed and bitter and tired of watching people dive headfirst into disaster—

The sound of footsteps made her look up, and she saw Kurama running in her direction. Her mouth fell open. He should have been dead! The path had been clear as day. It was either him or Ms. Minamino, not both.

"Is she…?" He asked as he approached her.

"You—you should be—how—?!"

He passed her before she could form a coherent sentence, which was alright in her book, because she didn't think she'd be able to.

In her little world of certainty, somebody had strayed from the path so unceremoniously and unexpectedly that the foundations of her beliefs trembled.

She blinked a few times, opened her grandmother's door still dumbfounded, and squeaked, "Nana. I just saw a miracle."


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks everyone for the amazing response for chapter one! I've decided to continue the story, but updates will be sporadic because right now I'm pouring most of my time into my ongoing One Piece fanfic. I'd love to hear what you think about this story, though! Yu Yu Hakusho is my favorite manga and it was time I wrote something for it.

 **Gabby:** Thank you so much! Your comments about my writing style made my day (I squealed out loud in a crowded train when I read it because I'm a loser). I'm very glad you like Makoto and how she meshes with Kurama, because I find him extremely hard to write. I'll try not to disappoint!

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Two hours after Shiori's prodigious recovery, Makoto's grandmother died. As her parents stood by the body, she saw a girl with blue hair and a pink kimono go through the window and take her grandmother's soul with her. Makoto waved goodbye in silence while no one was looking, and she watched Nana leave, sixty years younger than she was and with a smile on her face.

Makoto was happy to find out that they looked very much alike.

She was the one in charge of covering the small Shinto shrine at home, and though it was a tradition, Makoto thought it was a waste of time, because her grandmother's spirit was definitely not going to come back to haunt the house.

The following days were more tiring than the days she had spent at the hospital. A wake and funeral, all concentrated with sadness and bad energy that made the hairs of her neck stand of end. Makoto understood the necessity to mourn when somebody passed away, but she didn't get how regular humans couldn't realize that stretching the ceremonies so much only accomplished casting a sort of spirit smog around the house that made supernatural occurrences more likely. How would it feel for the deceased to watch relatives and friends crying for days on end? Makoto thought she'd be too worried to go to the Spirit World after that.

The people in charge over there should issue pamphlets for the benefit of the families and their own employers. Anchored spirits were always a pain to deal with.

All in all, by the time the funeral was over and she was able to lose sight of her extended family, she was almost looking forward to school.

She woke up that day by rolling out of bed, bumping her head on the nightstand and opening her eyes to the rear end of her black cat. An omen.

Makoto tried to remember what she had been dreaming about and the only thing that came to mind were insects as big as her hands. She had a bad feeling.

There were no more incidents during breakfast or on her way to school. Her toast didn't fall on the buttered side, she didn't trip over her own feet, and no crows chased after her that morning. She swore the critters could smell the lunch in her schoolbag.

At school, she lingered near the stairs to see if her friend Fumiko would come, but she had to give up before the bell rang. She was always late in the morning and one of the first to leave as soon as class was over.

Makoto found Kurama talking with a group of classmates near the door. She spared only a quick glance in his direction and went to her desk, not expecting that he'd bother to speak to her now that he wasn't dying of worry over his mother.

 _One, two, three_ ; the bell rang and her classmates began to move to their desks. Makoto dug inside her bag for the pencil case.

"Good morning, Makoto. How is your family doing?"

She jolted on her seat and looked up slowly. Three things came automatically to mind:

 _I didn't notice him._

 _He spoke to me._

 _He used my first name._

She looked around from the corner of her eye. Several heads were turned towards them and a few eyes threatened to fall out of their sockets. Fantastic.

"Better now that the fanfare is over," she said quietly, keeping her eyes on her pencil case and turning it over idly. "How is your mother?"

"She's doing well. The doctors will be discharging her today."

"That is good to hear," she said sincerely. "She is a good woman."

There was a hint of gratefulness in Kurama's face that she missed because she wasn't looking. Then the bell rang, the show was over, and she was thankfully out of the spotlight for the time being.

She glared at Kurama when she thought he wasn't looking.

—

"I heard Minamino talked to you! What gives?"

Makoto had gone up to the third year's floor to find her friend during lunchtime, and this was her greeting. She dragged a nearby chair to the girl's desk, sat down, and put down her lunchbox with more force than needed.

"Ooh, someone's touchy," the girl said, mouth of stuffed with rice and cheeks puffed like a hamster. Makoto pinched one in retaliation.

"How do you even know," Makoto said tiredly, and dug into her own meal.

"I think all the school knew by the time third period rolled around. That guy can't take a piss without somebody noticing."

"Joy."

"So be honest, what's going on? Why is Mr. Tall and Handsome asking you about your family?"

Makoto looked up briefly. Fumiko, faithful friend and neighbor, sat backwards on her chair, her skirt too short and her hair bleached and dyed copper. She wore a lot of makeup, she was flashing her panties at every unsuspecting passersby, and she didn't care.

"His mother was on the same hospital floor as Nana. We spoke a few times."

"A few times? And he's calling you by name? Hmmm?" Fumiko grinned and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Makoto grimaced and recoiled a few inches. "Wow, point taken, I don't think I've ever seen a girl make that face when talking about Minamino."

Makoto swallowed an omelette roll before replying, "He's weird."

Two hands clamped both sides of her face and turned her head towards Fumiko.

" _You_ are calling someone else weird?!"

With a fast poke with the back of her chopsticks to Fumiko's forehead, Makoto was released. "I do because he is."

"But what sort of weird is he? Like, keeps a photo album of feet weird? Panty-stealing weird?"

Makoto made a disgusted face again. "I meant me-tier weird."

Fumiko spit some rice and doubled over coughing. Makoto patted her back twice as a courtesy and kept eating until she recovered. "Are you telling me—" Cough. She continued in a conspirational tone, "You telling me that he has superpowers? Premonitions and that sort of stuff? OH!" Her eyes widened and she clapped her hands. "He can see all the test answers and that's why he always scores so high!"

Makoto glanced at her friend with pity. "Premonitions don't work like that," she said. "I don't think it is any kind of future sight, but he has power. That is for sure." She popped a cherry tomato in her mouth and added, "Do not go near him. He is trouble."

Her friend's eyes shone. "How do you know?"

Makoto knew that look on Fumiko's face. She lived for bad boys. Makoto deadpanned even harder than usual. "He pulls dangerous stuff. And I am not talking about wheelies or whatever your new boyfriend is doing nowadays."

Fumiko pouted and poked Makoto under her ribs, drawing a squeak out of the girl. "Keisuke doesn't do wheelies, he _races_."

"He is going to split his head open against a curb anyway."

Fumiko's face became contemplative. "Is that a premonition?"

Makoto thought about it, turned to the other girl with a serious expression, and after taking a few more seconds she shrugged imperceptibly and said, "Sure."

"What sort of answer is that?! Is my boyfriend gonna die or not?!"

"We all will, someday," Makoto said, and had the nagging feeling that she was repeating someone else's words. "Dump Keisuke and snatch a rich old man who will die way before you. I can help you find one that is about to kick the bucket. You just hike up that skirt a bit higher and we will have you settled in no time."

Fumiko sighed. "Sometimes I can't tell if you care or you're just joking."

"Why can it not be both? Why does it have to be either?" Makoto pause before picking a piece of carrot and smiled a little at her own words.

"You're a jerk."

"I believe the proper term in my circumstances is 'bastard.'"

"That too."

Makoto took the last tiny tomato and aimed it at Fumiko's unbuttoned cleavage.

"Score."

"You little punk!"

"Let go of my hair! Let! Go!"

—

"I can't believe they almost put me on detention because of you!"

"I cannot believe that you are sore about it after I defended you."

"Of course I'm sore! You're so fussy with your hair. You didn't have to scream like that!"

"You know what else is sore? My scalp, you wild beast."

Fumiko petted Makoto's hair and Makoto inched away from her slowly as they walked home after school. She was too fond of physical contact, Makoto was thinking, when she looked sharply at the corner of a house and took a hold of Fumiko's wrist to stop her.

"Do _not_ do or say anything silly," she warned.

"Nasty folks incoming?"

"Yes."

True to word, two Kasanegafuchi boys doubled the corner right away. Makoto relaxed a little upon recognizing them, and so did her friend. Sadly enough, the guys also knew who she was and headed straight for her.

They were half-demons, like her. The young delinquent sort, and the one she wanted to avoid. Unfortunately, they all knew each other in the city, because the community was small and giving off not-fully-human vibes wasn't easily hidden from others like her.

She always thought it was strange, living between two worlds. Trying to pass unnoticed by the Spirit World, and trying not to be ostracized by humans. Many of her kind banded together in gangs and abused their powers. She could see the appeal, but she had always preferred to keep to herself.

There was a lust for violence, a longing inside for something they had never known but seemed to be coded inside them, running through blood that didn't belong to this world. They had an instinct for battle that humans didn't share, and an unending boredom that couldn't be quenched by leading a normal life.

These two boys were scum, but she didn't have it in her heart to treat them with disdain. In a sense, she understood them all too well.

"'Sup, Kodama!"

"Long time no see!"

She nodded their way in acknowledgement. She tried to remember their names and failed.

"You should hang out with us sometime," the taller one said. "We got new friends who wanna know you."

"You know I do not like meeting people," she said with a hint of distaste.

 _Hate, hate, hate._

He leered at Fumiko with a grin. "And your friend here? She looks like a party girl."

"Sorry man, I bat for the other team."

"What—"

"Fumi, don't—"

Fumiko put an arm around Makoto and gave her a smooch on the mouth without previous notice. Not that Makoto had needed it, because it wasn't the first time this happened.

This was exactly the sort of thing she had tried to keep her from doing with that warning.

Fumiko grinned at the boys, who all of a sudden were looking very out of place, but thankfully they didn't get any bolder.

Makoto pushed Fumiko's face away from her. "Show's over. Did you need something from us?" She asked. "We are in a bit of a hurry. I have cats to skin, entrails to inspect, you know how it is."

The first one looked at his friend and then at Makoto, "Uhh, yeah, there's something. Say, have you heard anything 'bout a…" He cast a glance at Fumiko.

"She is fine. You can talk in front of her."

"Cool," the boy relaxed, put on a sleazy smile and spoke to Fumiko. "I like you better the more I know you."

"I don't like guys shorter than me."

"Your point. Please." Makoto was on the brink of losing her patience. Her fingers fiddled nervously with the handle of her bag. To say that she was eager to lose sight of those two was an understatement. They were always hard to shake off, and Fumiko was a ticking bomb.

"Right away, princess," the taller one mocked, and Makoto glared darkly at him. In fact, all of Makoto's glares, stares and average glances were dark, because her eyes were a brown-black so deep that one couldn't tell the pupil from the iris. She was aware that it unnerved people. The thug shifted a little on his feet, and she knew it was making an effect. "You heard anything about a Spirit Detective? Rumor's that there's one in town."

That grabbed Makoto's interest instantly. "A Spirit Detective? Do we have a name?"

"What's a Spirit Detective?" Fumiko asked.

"Hush, I will explain later."

"Heard it's Yuusuke Urameshi, that punk from Sarayashiki High."

"I know who that guy is!" Fumiko exclaimed. "He gave my ex a beating a week before we broke up. Good riddance," she nodded. "But I heard he's dead."

"Some crazy shit's happened, I tell you," the other boy said. "I know a guy who was at his funeral and now turns out the fucker's alive and going after demons."

"They say he trashed someone called Gouki and caught two dangerous dudes for the Spirit World."

"I think I have met him," Makoto admitted. "But he did not look like much to me."

Stronger than those two before her for sure, but still a wimp.

"You did? And he didn't try anything?"

"I do not think he even noticed what I am. Don't start trouble that will catch the eye of the higher ups and he will leave you alone."

"We can lay low," the tall one said with a smirk. "It's what we all do, isn't it?"

"Yes," Makoto mumbled.

"So," the other boy said, "do you have anything for us?"

Makoto stared impassively at his face, then at the other one, until she was sure that they were getting edgy.

"No."

"Come on!"

"Don't be so stingy!"

"Premonitions do not happen on command."

"Give us anything!"

She racked her brains for something relevant, but she didn't find much. "Insects," she said at last, because she just wanted them to go. "The size of a juice can, flying and disgusting. Watch out for those."

The guys grew quieter and mulled over the new info.

"That's it?"

"For now."

"Like hell, you're hiding some—"

She stopped paying attention because somebody else was closing in on them. _One, two—_

"Hello, Minamino," she greeted without turning around, feeling unending satisfaction at having noticed him.

Kurama's youki was obvious to everybody present but Fumiko. The air filled with tension. Menace. An intimidation attempt that would only work with the lowest of the low, and it did. He knew what he was doing.

"Hi," he was wearing that smile he used with everybody at school, "are these friends of yours?"

"Passing acquaintances."

"That's cruel, girl!"

"It is the truth."

"I see," he faced the boys and said, "I'm afraid I'm going to steal Makoto from you. We have a class project to discuss."

They were unconsciously leaning away from Kurama, just a little bit, and they had grown restless enough to want to go. Survival instinct was a wonderful thing.

Makoto jumped at the opportunity. "I told you we were in a hurry."

One of the guys tapped the other on the shoulder and flashed a tentative smile at Makoto. "Sure. See ya, Kodama. You know where we are if you or your friend wanna find us."

"I do. Try not to die while I cannot warn you."

The two looked over their shoulders nervously and walked away.

The energy in the area waned. Makoto deflated and breathed easy again.

"What class project, Mako? You didn't tell me anything about it."

She ignored Fumiko. "You could have made it worse."

"I thought you'd appreciate the help."

"I do."

Kurama looked at her with curiosity. Makoto peered up from under her bangs.

"WELL," a hand fell on Makoto's shoulder with enough force to make her knees wobbly, "you keep making eyes at each other; I'll go home and get ready for my date. BYE!"

"Fumi—"

Fumiko was already too far away. "HAVE FUN!"

"Don't mind her," Makoto said, watching her skip down the street.

"You have a very enthusiastic friend." He sounded amused.

"That is her," she said tiredly. "All energy." She looked back at him. "Did you get in trouble with the Spirit World?"

"To put it lightly. They are still deliberating about my sentence, but given that I cooperated in the end, I don't think the punishment will be too harsh."

She knew next to nothing about the inner workings of the Spirit World, other than that they processed all the souls of people that died. "What kind of punishments do they give?"

"Same as humans. Imprisonment, death penalty, forced labor and the like."

Makoto's face fell flatter. "Somehow you do not strike me as concerned as you should be."

Kurama chuckled. "I'll take whatever comes my way."

He seemed happy, despite the uncertainty of his future. She stared at him, trying to see more, but the only thing she got was a feeling of calmness. There was no impending sense of doom about him, nothing that indicated that he was going to pay dearly for dodging fate. He had done what he had set out to, avoided the worst consequences of it, and he wanted nothing more. He took her stare unflinchingly, and Makoto had the impression that she was the one being analyzed.

"Your mother is fortunate to have you," she said. "No one would have done what you did."

Kurama looked like he had expected any comment but that. "I'm sure many sons would do anything for their mothers."

"That is not what I mean." She hung her schoolbag on her wrist and started explaining with more intensity than usual, "Fate is like this sort of path we all have," she gestured with her hands apart, drawing lines in the air, "and we all take the one that is wider and marked for us. It's like a highway with a single destination. People don't deviate from it. In your case, it was either you or her, no way around it. If we follow the highway analogy," she furrowed her brow, and drew another, smaller path with her hands that branched out from the other, "you took the car with your mother inside it, swerved it out of the road and onto a goat path, found another highway at the end of it, and reincorporated to traffic as if nothing had happened." She looked up at him, befuddled and very relieved that she was being able to put into words the thoughts that had plagued her mind since that night. "Only you could have done it because… because…" She threw her arms in defeat. "You can't do that!"

She noticed how stupid her explanation sounded when she was done with it, and she quickly replaced her hands on the handle of her bag.

"A goat path," he repeated.

She put on the glasses hanging on her neck just to blur his stare. Ah, much better. "A goat path," she confirmed. "Please never apply for a driving license."

She couldn't see it, but she heard him snicker softly. "Were you heading home? I'll walk you."

"You do not need to. In fact, if you do, someone will see and your fanclub will hound me."

"Is that a prediction?"

"It is common sense. I want to live long."

"You won't if you head home with those glasses on, so I will go with you anyway."

They were barely two streets away from their starting point when she had to stop briefly, and she got a flash of three girls huddled around her desk and interrogating her. Clear as day, glasses and all. She took them off with a groan.

"Are you okay?"

"I will blame you for this."

Kurama didn't ask what she had seen, but his sly smile suggested that he didn't need to.

—

She woke up tangled in her sheets and breathing raggedly under the piercing stare of her cat. More insects. Swarms of them. She was sure it wasn't a normal dream, but she couldn't be sure what it meant quite yet.

She decided to make a trip to the mountains that weekend to talk with the old psychic her grandmother had introduced her to when she was little.

As expected, three girls she had never talked to ambushed her later that day between classes to ask about her ' _relationship with Minamino_.' Meanwhile, said person arrived at the crime scene and, instead of intervening, watched it with fake interest from a distance. He was laughing inside. Makoto looked up with pleading eyes and he suddenly saw something very interesting down on the courtyard.

He was a cruel, cruel man. Makoto found herself pitying the three girls before her while reassuring them that no, they weren't that close, ' _go ahead, he is single and looking_.' He twitched when she said that. Two could play at this game.

The girls thanked her when they left her alone. Kurama was certainly a catalyst for oddities.

—

That Saturday afternoon, she rode the train towards the mountains. As they got closer, she began feeling the power creeping from them.

Makoto was wearing a grey long-sleeved dress, black tights and hiking boots that clashed with everything else. She just wanted to be comfortable. The train platform was a good trek away from the temple where Master Genkai lived, but the way was impossible to miss for those spiritually aware. Adjusting her bag, she pressed on.

Wisps of energy rose with every step she took as she ascended the stairs to the temple. It puffed from the stone, crackled around the amulets that lined the red gates. She approached her hand to a few of the enchanted papers just to feel the static on her skin.

In this place she could relax, let go of the grip she had to maintain in her own energy every day to remain unnoticed. She let it flow freely, and the climb felt much lighter once she did.

As she got closer to the top, the sounds of birds got more and more distant until they disappeared. Few dared live in the forests that surrounded the temple. The lack of animal sounds was so apparent that even her parents had caught onto it the one time they had accompanied her there.

The courtyard was empty and Makoto couldn't find any trace of the master's presence in the premises. She decided to sit on the porch and wait until she was back.

The wind was unruly and smelled like power. There was nothing like it in the city. She closed her eyes and felt her hair blow around with a wild gust. When it was over, she knew the master wouldn't come back until the evening. It was fine by her. She could wait forever in a place like this.

When the sun began to go down and the sky was painted violet and red and orange, Makoto heard the rustle of leaves in the forest and stood up to greet the master.

 _One, two, three…_

She saw her appear between the trees, and close behind, a boy with black hair that looked very much worse for wear.

"Stop walking and wait for me, you old hag!"

"Sure, when you wash off all that grime! Don't get close to me while you smell like that, idiot."

Makoto thought the boy looked familiar. That voice, that walk, that pathetic control over his reiki… It had to be Yuusuke. He was hard to recognize without his hair slicked back.

"Master Genkai," she called, walking towards them.

"Hm? Oh, Makoto, I didn't know you were coming," the woman said. "I'm sorry I couldn't be at the funeral. I had preparations to make," she pointed behind her to Yuusuke, who was fighting off the last three branches before stepping onto the courtyard proper. He was full of bruises and scratches.

"It was more than enough that you came to the wake. You did not miss anything."

"How's your father holding up?"

"As well as he can," Makoto replied. Her father wasn't an outwardly emotional person, but Nana's death had been a hard blow nevertheless. "Master, I was wondering if…" What was she going to say? Talk about dreams? Makoto should be the one to know better. She wondered if she had unintentionally been looking for an excuse to go to a place she liked.

"You know you can stay here all the time you like," the woman offered kindly, as if she had read her thoughts. "We can talk about what's on your mind later. I need a bath."

"Of course," Makoto bowed low. "Thank you."

"No need."

"Hey, do I know you?"

Makoto turned to the source of the interruption. Yuusuke was shaking leaves from his hair and staring intently at her, trying to remember.

"We met at the hospital when…" She cut herself short and started playing with a strand of her hair. She didn't know how to call Kurama in front of this boy.

"Aah, I remember! You're Kurama's friend!"

Her fingers froze. "Classmate," she mumbled.

"Whatever," the boy grinned. "I didn't think you knew the old woman."

Makoto felt her temper rise. "Master Genkai is a psychic famous in all of Japan and across the sea. She's the sole heir of the Spirit Wave, one of the most reputed—"

"Don't waste your breath, Makoto, it won't get through his skull," Genkai mocked Yuusuke. "That boy is only good for taking punches, and right now he can't even do that."

Those words riled Yuusuke up. "Say that again! Come here and I'll show you—"

"Just wash yourself already and go to sleep. Tomorrow we're doubling today's drills."

"What?!"

Makoto watched the unlikely pair head to the building and followed them inside, wondering how on Earth that guy had managed to secure a position as a Spirit Detective.

She took one last glance at the forest, smiled to herself, and closed the sliding door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

I changed a few mentions of 'spirit energy' and 'demon energy' to 'reiki' and 'youki,' respectively, in the previous chapters. It helps to avoid unnecessary repetition.

 **YuYu4Ever:** Thanks! I intend to keep adding chapters while I have free time.

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Yuusuke Urameshi had no discipline, not an inkling of what that was supposed to be. Makoto had never seen somebody disrespect Master Genkai like that. He should have been proud of becoming his successor! He should have been groveling on the ground in thankfulness that she had decided that him, and only him, would be the receiver of her techniques, and that she was going to personally train him!

Makoto kept repeating this reasoning in her head when she found herself running twenty laps around the nearby lake after Master Genkai said that now that she was there, might as well make the most out of the visit and get her butt in gear.

While it was true that half-demons were generally much stronger and resilient than the average human, the sad truth was that the average human was a wimp that would have fell flat on his face during the third lap, and Makoto hadn't exercised in quite a while, flights from crows notwithstanding.

That godforsaken lake was huge.

Genkai, as if to prove the point that they were still completely green, ran alongside them – at first. By the time they had started the second lap, the old master was on her fifth and Yuusuke was cursing her to hell and back. Makoto just concentrated on remembering how to breathe.

The spirits in the water and rocks and trees seemed to taunt her.

By the tenth lap, Makoto had a splitting side ache and she wanted to die.

"Hey," called Yuusuke, appearing to her side and gasping for air. She wasn't sure if he had slowed down for her or he had caught up from behind, because she had developed tunnel vision in the last fifteen minutes and the only thing that existed was the path around the lake and the hope of surviving this ordeal. "You're… holding up," _pant_ , "pretty well…"

"Conserve," _wheeze_ , "energy…"

She was alive at the end of the twentieth lap, barely, and the first thing she did was sink her head in the lake. She heard a muffled splash when Yuusuke jumped headfirst into it.

Genkai rose from her comfortable spot under the shade of a tree and walked to the edge of the lake. "That was pitiful," she said to Makoto when she surfaced, "City life isn't doing you any favors."

She rubbed her face and replied quietly, "I know." She took her braided hair in her hands and started wringing out the water.

"How long are you planning on staying?"

Makoto tensed at the implication in the question. "I spent two weeks in the hospital with Nana. I can't miss any more school."

Genkai hummed approvingly. "It's good to see that someone here has her priorities straight." She took a disdainful look at Yuusuke and yelled, "Stupid, stop frolicking in the water and come here!"

"Why him?" Makoto asked, looking the boy's way.

"Because he has potential."

And by the look of things, he also had a filthy, filthy mouth.

Makoto followed his swim to the shore with analyzing intent. "There is something odd about his aura. I cannot pinpoint it, but it's there."

"As I understand, he died and came back to life."

So there was some truth to the rumor. "How?"

"They didn't expect him to die so soon. An administrative error in the Spirit World."

Makoto did a double take. Was the fate of lives dependent on something so mundane?

 _Wait._ He died when he shouldn't have.

Kurama survived when he shouldn't have.

Yuusuke had popped up out of nowhere that night. He prevented it somehow.

He wasn't supposed to be there. That's why Kurama's death had been so clear to her, it had to be. Her prediction hadn't accounted for this guy because he just wasn't supposed to be there, wrecking everything he came in contact with. He was tearing down the very paths of fate.

Plucked from the river of life and thrown back in without a care, the ripples he caused were affecting the people he crossed paths with.

The mother of all anomalies. The source of her headaches for over a week. It had been _his fault_ all along.

She slapped her face and hid behind her hands.

Genkai raised an eyebrow at her. "Is something bothering you?"

"No. I had a revelation."

"Oh? Then has your trip paid off already?"

Makoto spread her fingers just enough to see through the cracks. "In a way I did not expect."

"That's unusual for you."

It was true. She was used to see everything coming, quite literally.

"Not so much as of late."

Calmly, Genkai shifted and started walking towards the forest. Makoto was about to follow her when the older woman said, "Come back next weekend if you're still worried. I'll whip you back into shape while you work out your issues."

Makoto didn't know whether to feel grateful or threatened by the offer.

—

"Why did you come here anyway?" Yuusuke asked too casually, given the circumstances.

Makoto was eating a rice ball in one of the temple's training rooms while Yuusuke struggled to maintain a handstand using his reiki as support. Master Genkai was taking a break and Makoto's job was to tell on Yuusuke if he slacked off.

He didn't seem to mind having her around. Same as Fumiko or Kurama or even the master, he didn't treat her like a creepy nuisance. Makoto appreciated it, even if she didn't tell him.

She swallowed a bite and said, "I have been having recurring nightmares. Something bad is coming. I was hoping Master Genkai would have some advice."

"Did she?"

"No. We are lost. But watch out for large bugs."

"Bugs?"

"You cannot miss them."

Yuusuke teetered dangerously on his index finger and started swinging his legs and free arm to try to regain his balance. It was entertaining to watch, and also mildly pathetic. Makoto remembered the times the same had happened to her when she was little, and suddenly became self-conscious of how silly she must have looked.

He hit the floor flat on his back. Makoto took a lazy look at her wristwatch and announced, "Three minutes." She took a bite of her food and said with a full mouth. "New record. You are improving."

"I can't tell if you're serious or you're making fun of me."

"I get that a lot."

Yuusuke sat up, unruffled, and crossed his legs. "Hey, pass me a rice ball! I'm starving! The old hag hasn't let me eat since breakfast."

She contemplated the risks involved with the request and settled for throwing one of them at Yuusuke. "Eat quickly, she will be here in," she glanced at her watch again, "six minutes. You don't want her to catch you like this."

Makoto didn't want to be caught breaking the house rules, either, or she was likely to be put on a handstand too.

"I don't even need two," Yuusuke replied, and he stuffed his mouth with half the ball. "Aaaah, this is so good!"

Makoto found almost endearing the way he could be happy with so little. She still couldn't believe this boy was going to be the recipient of the Spirit Wave, but she couldn't deny that he was resilient and had a lot of energy. With perseverance, he could become a fearsome fighter and healer.

"Hm? Whatcha lookin' at?" He said while he munched.

"Nothing. Just thinking that you may actually be the right person for the job."

Yuusuke swallowed and stretched his arms, popping a few joints. "I don't give a damn about the job. I was tricked to come to the old woman's competition, won, and now I'm trapped here while I miss the wrestling championship."

She stared at him blankly. "My condolences."

Yuusuke frowned. "Does you face change at all when you talk?"

"No."

Yuusuke made a face at her, stood up and punched the palm of his hand. "Whatever. Let's get back to this before the hag throws a fit."

He did a handstand, projected his reiki through a finger and lost his balance right away. Again. Again. Again.

"Why doesn't it work now?!"

"You are doing it wrong."

"Huh? Do you know how to do it?"

Makoto lowered her gaze to her bare feet. "You are expelling too much energy at once. Earlier you were releasing less, though unsteadily. That was why you could not keep your body straight."

Yuusuke's indignation was plain on his face. He was so expressive it was comical. "Why didn't you tell me before?!"

"It stands to reason that Master Genkai would want her successor to figure it out on his own."

Yuusuke groaned and tried again, but he was too annoyed and flunked it again. "That's it! I've had enough of this crap!"

"For the love of…" Makoto narrowed her eyes and got up all of a sudden. "Get back in position."

"But—"

"Stop complaining and do it. I will help."

The boy blinked at her a few times, but for a change he didn't protest and obeyed. When he was upside down again, she put a hand on each side of his legs, applying enough pressure just to keep him from tilting. His finger illuminated again with energy and he shook precariously as he rose from the floor.

"Too much. Lower the intensity."

He did, and he got so low that he had to try balance himself with the other hand.

"Not so little!"

Yuusuke shot up about five centimeters from the floor.

"You're overdoing it again!"

"You think I don't know it?!"

"Lower the output little by little. The whole point of this exercise is to stabilize the stream of your reiki."

Once again to her surprise, Yuusuke didn't complain and focused on doing what she said. Maybe he was more serious about it than she had given him credit for.

He swayed as he reduced the amount of energy he projected, but in about a minute he was able to maintain a regular output.

Makoto let go of him carefully and examined his posture. Satisfied, she said. "There. That is the correct point."

"Finally!" He made a victory gesture with his left arm and almost lost his balance again.

"Pay attention, you dolt!" Makoto rushed to keep him upright, and Master Genkai chose that exact moment to open the door.

The old master watched the scene as if she had been expecting to see exactly that. "I was wondering how long it would take you to help him."

Makoto's cheeks turned pink and she let go of Yuusuke's leg, causing him to flop onto the floorboards. She had been played.

"If you're so eager to give him a hand, you'll be joining him next weekend."

In that moment, Makoto knew not even an army of Yuusukes could help her avoid destiny.

—

Makoto didn't find an explanation for the dreams as she had initially hoped, but she didn't go back home empty-handed. She had some peace of mind after discovering why her prediction about Kurama had been so wrong, even if she didn't have all the details. She remembered the energy that had surrounded him that day. Hunger, death, despair, digging its claws into Kurama and searching for more, trying to latch onto anything around it. She decided that she didn't need to know more.

She dreamed of the insects again, but thankfully she woke up normally that day. It had to be serious if her subconscious was picking up on it so much.

Seeing that something unsettling was looming in the distance and her near future was going to involve testing the limits of physical torture, she decided it wouldn't hurt to try to get back into shape and go for a run every morning before school.

Pleasantly surprised to find out her running shorts still fit, she pulled them on, threw on a t-shirt, stepped into a pair of sneakers that hadn't seen much use in a year, and set out for the street.

The sun wasn't fully up, but she lived in a safe neighborhood, and she was fairly confident that she could outrun the average, non-supernatural creep anytime. She started with a jog and got progressively faster, until she could feel her leg muscles burn. Having to keep her energy down made her sluggish, and it frustrated her. It was one of the reasons she had stopped exercising. But it was the price to pay to avoid attracting the attention of the Spirit World or unfriendly ghosts and demons. The stronger you got, the easier you became to locate. Beings with outstanding energy were like beacons to the apparitions in their vicinity, and she wanted none of it.

The run was uneventful, but she had to admit it made her feel more energized on the way to school. Part of her also attributed it to the fact that she wanted to tell Kurama that she had found out how he had cheated death so brazenly. After the initial shock was over, she had felt quite satisfied with herself for putting the pieces together. To be fair, she should have done it when what's-their-faces popped up in front of her and Fumiko the previous week, but she didn't put much stock in gossip so far-fetched. Turns out the rumor mill had been right this time and the new Spirit Detective was more special than usual.

She'd heard stories about the two that preceeded him. Kuroko Sanada and Shinobu Sensui. Famous names in circles that survived by staying under the radar of the authorities. Then, without an explanation, Sanada retired, Sensui dropped off the map a few years later, and the Spirit World was without a dog to send to do their dirty jobs for the better part of a decade. Until now.

She wondered if Yuusuke knew what sort of world he was getting into. She was sure he wouldn't have heeded the warning, but it would have been better than pushing him into the pool before he learned how to swim.

Makoto shook her head. Inexperienced as he was, he was lucky to have run into Genkai before a strong demon put a swift end to his career.

Later in the day, finding a private moment to talk to Kurama proved to be impossible until afternoon. She had to let Fumiko head home first and follow the trail of his energy to a nearby empty classroom, where _still_ she found him accompanied by two girls.

Amano. Hasegawa. They didn't look they were to give up on their prey soon. Makoto could admire their persistence and determination, but they were in her way and she had waited long enough.

Undeterred by their presence, she sneaked up on them, with Kurama maintaining a commendable poker face and not letting even an eye twitch slip, despite Makoto being directly in his line of sight.

She approached the girls from behind until she was close enough to whisper in her ears with her bored, raspy voice, "If you are not in the tennis club in five minutes, you will suffer grievous injuries during training today."

One of the girls let out a small yelp and covered her mouth. The other jumped on the spot, but turned around more stoically.

"K-Kodama?" Amano said hesitantly.

"The clock is ticking."

It didn't take anything else to convince them to go. Such were the perks of her reputation.

Kurama observed with an elbow on the desk and a hand covering his mouth. He had an English book open and it looked like he was taking notes before being interrupted.

"That was amusing and contemptible at once."

"Skipping warm-up is dangerous." She said, casually twirling a strand of her around her index finger. "And you didn't warn them. Half the fault falls on you."

Kurama let a small smirk show. "I never said otherwise." Putting his hands together on his lap and lacing his fingers, he said, all fake innocence and business-like, "May I ask why you have been trying to speak to me all day and just resorted to scaring two teenage girls to get me alone?"

Makoto knitted her brows and her hair fell from between her fingers. "If you noticed, why didn't you make it easier for me?"

"I did. That's why I lingered here after school."

Makoto blinked twice at his words, but didn't change her facial expression. "Smart. And heartless for not even hinting at it."

Kurama chuckled. "I was confident you'd find me if it was that important."

His display of faith was almost flattering. "It isn't. But I wanted to let you know that I figured out how you were able to escape death a few weeks ago."

Kurama looked curiously at her. "Did you find out about the artifacts?"

Makoto raised her eyebrows at the question. "No?"

"But last week you asked me if I was in trouble with the Spirit World."

"A blast of negative energy occurred on the roof of the hospital and you were at the center of it. There was no way it could go undetected."

Kurama looked at her in a way that made him seem _almost_ impressed. "Fair enough. I thought you knew about the theft."

"The—" Makoto remembered the evening when Kurama had told her about his previous life and she released a silent sigh. "…I won't ask. Anyway, it is not relevant. It was the actions of the Spirit Detective what threw fate's plans out the window."

"That… is more correct than you can know, given the circumstances."

"Oh?"

"Let's just say that he intervened in my plan and something went amiss with great results."

The corner of Makoto's lips lifted up a fraction. "I can see as much. The problem is that this should not have happened under any circumstances, but this weekend I found out how Yuusuke came to be a Spirit Detective."

"You have my attention."

"He died unexpectedly and the Spirit World decided to send him back. In doing so, his reiki must have awakened, hence throwing him into a chain of situations he was not originally meant to be involved with. Including you and… whatever you did."

Kurama smiled at the last part.

"The fate I saw did not account for Yuusuke's intervention because he was not meant to be there to begin with," Makoto finished.

Kurama's smile didn't falter. Makoto found it unsettling, and she was used to be the source of that sensation, not the receiver. "Why are you smiling?"

"You came all the way to find me only to justify why you failed a prediction."

Makoto's eyes widened, as did Kurama's smile. She tried to find a way to deny it, and she realized that he was right.

"In fact, it sounds to me like you were doing it more for your benefit than mine. Did it bother so much that I did not die?" He asked, obviously having fun with it.

She flushed at the accusation. "I don't want people to die, you know," she snapped. "I would rather swallow my pride than be right on something like that. But… it was still disconcerting," she admitted, lowering her eyes and running her fingers over the chain of her glasses.

"Have you never failed a prediction before?"

"Never."

"That's impressive."

She looked at his face tentatively. "How so?"

"Predicting the future is an unreliable business. I have never met someone with a rate of success that high before. Have you always had so much spiritual awareness?"

"Yes. And it is not as convenient as you might think," she pointed out. "I cannot get the information I want at will."

Kurama was looking at her again like she was a puzzle that he was trying to put together. "What determines what you can know?"

Makoto mused for a bit before replying. "I am not entirely sure. The simplest way I can explain it is that my power acts like an antenna that picks up random signals, if they are strong enough. I may see images, or get a strong feeling that something is about to happen. As for what determines it? I have gathered that I am more likely to pick up events that cause a deep emotional reaction. As if their signal was louder."

"Is that why you could tell that my mother was going to die as soon as you looked at her?"

She shook her head. "Dying people are different. You can see it too, can't you?" She looked into his eyes. "The fraying edges of their aura. The decay of their energy. Their fate is easy enough to pick up, even if nobody is going to feel their loss." She lowered her eyes again. "I also saw a flash of your mother dead on her bed. Not much room for doubt after that."

After giving it some thought, Kurama asked, "You say you can't receive signals at will, but can you block them?"

"No," Makoto's denial came with a hint of frustration. "Trust me, I have tried."

"That must be exhausting."

She shrugged. "In the end, it is not that different from feeling the presence of others through their energy. You pick up on it all the time, but you learn to not pay much attention unless you need to."

Kurama appeared to be satisfied with that explanation and changed the subject. At some point, the conversation had escaped Makoto's control and devolved into an interrogation. "How did you find out about Yuusuke's history?"

"I met him this weekend. Turns out that he is training his powers with Master Genkai. Have you heard of her?"

"Who hasn't?"

Makoto's heart skipped a beat. "Right? The great master of the Spirit Wave—" She cut herself short when she realized she was down the road to fangirling and Kurama was smiling again. "I wanted to talk her. She was an old acquaintance of Nana. Taught me how to keep my power down to pass unnoticed."

"I can attest that she did a good job."

"Did she?" A mischievous glint appeared on Makoto's eyes. "Or are you so sure that everybody around you is a bland human that you don't pay as much attention as you should?"

Kurama lifted an eyebrow. "Is this payback for my observations?"

"Yes."

He shifted on his seat, crossing his legs and resting an resting his hands on his lap, fingers laced. "In that case, I have more. I saw you this morning before school."

Her surprised reply came out flat. "What."

"You passed by my house. I sensed a demonic energy approach, and imagine my surprise when I saw it was you on a morning run, beet red and out of breath."

He said that and just sat there with a complacent smile gracing his lips, waiting for her reaction. This was definitely a side of his personality he didn't show to their classmates.

Makoto furrowed her brow and tightened her grip on the chain. "Low blow," she muttered, and her next words dripped with sarcasm, "I'm sure you look fantastic when you exercise. Not a hair out of place, all prim and proper with your clothes neatly pressed."

Kurama looked like he was containing laughter. "Of course. I have my methods to keep my hair nice."

Makoto tilted her head and waited for a clarification that never came. Seeing it wasn't going anywhere, she opted for ending the conversation. Homework was waiting. "Well, it has been a witty conversation, but I will not keep you any longer. Thanks for lending an ear."

"My pleasure."

Makoto bowed curtly and left the classroom at a brisk pace, leaving Kurama to his own work.

—

The next morning was cloudy and threatened rain, but it didn't deter Makoto. She put on her running shoes and headed out.

She wondered where on her route Kurama lived and started to pay attention to suspicious houses, but she stopped wondering when, twenty minutes into her run, a mop of red hair appeared from behind the gates of the house with the tall cherry tree and started running next to her.

"Good morning, Makoto," he said amicably.

She refused to take her eyes off the road. "Are you a stalker?"

Kurama didn't dignify that question with an answer. "I've been thinking about what you said yesterday."

"Ah, so this is _your_ way of catching me alone where your fans can't hear."

"I plead guilty," he confessed, letting a small smile show. "It's difficult to find privacy at school, and not all of us can afford to scare away classmates with omens of doom."

"I do not envy you." She shot him a questioning glance. "What have you been thinking?"

"I'm curious about something you mentioned. Does Yuusuke's unexpected resurrection mean that your powers won't work as long as he is in the picture?"

"I hope not. I don't want a Spirit Detective flailing about unchecked. Besides, I assume things will settle down soon."

"Why?"

"How many ripples can cause a single stone cast in a river?" She said, drawing from her thoughts the day before. "The course of the stream will not be altered, even if there are disturbances along the way."

"And if it were a landslide instead?"

Makoto glance sideways at him, interested in the theory, but ultimately discarded it. "A single person is not that important in the great scheme of things."

"Have you never heard of the butterfly effect?"

She took a sharp turn to the right, and he followed her easily. "Now you are just playing devil's advocate. We're talking lives, not a weather forecast."

"They are not so different. Small factors can have big consequences down the road."

"I would concede that point if not for the Spirit World knowing exactly when every one of us will die, anecdotal mistakes aside. That implies a deterministic quality to life. You cannot—" Concentrated on her argument as she was, Makoto tripped on a storm drain she hadn't noticed, and Kurama caught her by an arm before she lost her balance, "–Thank you. As I was saying, you cannot tell when next year's typhoons will hit with any semblance of precision. But you can tell that someone will die in fifty years."

She was going to get side stitches again if she kept talking so much.

"Yet it seems that a person's immediate fate can change."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you were quick to point out that I was going to die when I acquired the artifact, so I assume you didn't think I would before. That should mean that a person's fate can be changed through individual actions."

Makoto scrunched up her nose at the memory of the energy Kurama gave off that day. "The fact that it's possible for me to tell does not mean I _can_ do it at any given time."

"But when you saw my mother—"

She cut him off. "You mother was dying. You _were going_ to die. There is a difference."

"Semantics," he was quick to reply.

"Physical health," she countered, and let out an almost silent groan. "You are giving me a headache before 7 AM."

"I think you are too quick to shun the possibility that you should account for variance and human unpredictability in your model of fate."

Makoto looked at him tiredly. "I am not trying to prove you wrong. You are suggesting that a person's fate is mutable. I am trying to say that there is a margin for change, but in the end most people do not deviate from that path, so we may as well consider it set in stone. Who is right? I think we both are, but we cannot know, and doing so would not make any difference. I only know that I am not used to making mistakes."

"You've thought a lot about the mechanisms of your ability." It wasn't a question. Putting it in doubt would have been mildly insulting.

"Naturally. I have been dealing with it all my life," she paused and added, "Say what you will about privacy, but you did not need to wake up before sunrise to have this conversation, Kurama."

"Does it bother you that I did?"

"No. It intrigues me."

They spent a moment in silence, and she realized then that she hadn't told him about her latest recurrent dream, not that she would have expected a satisfactory answer from him. "I keep getting the same dream very night. Do you know anything about giant bugs?"

"I have seen my fair share of them."

She turned to look at him. "You have? Greenish, mosquito-like, and this big?" She gestured with her hands.

Kurama looked at the size she was indicating. "I am far from an expert, but they sound like Demon World insects. You say you are seeing them in dreams? And you haven't seen them anywhere else before?"

"I have never been outside the Human World."

"Is there any more to those dreams?"

"I see them flying around the city, crawling inside people's mouths and ears. It isn't pretty."

"I can imagine," he looked serious as he considered other possibilities. "Are you positive that they aren't normal dreams?"

"Yes."

They kept running quietly for a long stretch of the road. At the end was a park that marked the point where Makoto would turn back home, and it came into view as Kurama spoke again.

"Time for a sprint?"

Makoto's legs were made of lead at this point. "Seriously?" She whined.

"Race you to the fountain," he said.

Makoto appraised the situation. He was taller, less tired and undoubtedly faster than her. She was competitive and had no chance of winning. "I'm on."

She released some of the grip she had on her energy, and she could have sworn her legs soared with relief at each new step.

She still lost, but it was a closer match.

He raced her the following day, too. And the next. And every school day from then on.

She would admit that it was a nice to have someone run with her. Fumiko had never wanted to wake up early to accompany her. There was only one thing that bothered her: no matter how much he ran, his hair always stayed irritatingly in place.

—

Torture. It was torture, no other way to call it. Nothing could have prepared her for the weekend, and she was dying for Monday to come and put everything behind. She didn't even need to make up an excuse. Her parents had not approved her going to the mountains two weeks in a row, and she was sure they wouldn't let her go a third. She just had to survive two days to be free.

Yuusuke had improved notably during the past five days. In less than two weeks of training, he was already shooting his reiki with precision. This was the potential Master Genkai had mentioned.

Makoto wasn't in the habit of cursing, and she would have never dared disrespect the old master like that, but she couldn't deny that she sympathized with Yuusuke's sentiment as he verbalized his pent-up feelings.

At least she had it easier.

"Makoto, get off your ass and start climbing now," the master said.

Sometimes.

By the time they were back on the temple and Genkai let them eat and sleep – _sleep! –_ Makoto wasn't sure she'd be ready to wake up ever again. She had to prove herself wrong by opening her eyes in the middle of the night with a jolt, when one of the insects flew towards her face.

Moonlight filtered through the rice paper of the shoji door. Unable to sleep, she got up from the futon and slid it the door open, walking onto the porch outside.

Worries seemed to vanish when she was there. The temple was comforting, nostalgic. A safe haven since she was little. It wasn't even as if she had anything to run from, but this place was special. It beckoned to something primal inside of her. The power concentrated through ages that emanated from every stone, every blade of glass, made her feel welcome.

She ambled quietly towards the training room where she had helped Yuusuke the previous week. She opened the shoji door, and leaving it like that, she walked to the center of the room, took a deep breath, and counted.

 _One, two, three._

She placed the palms of her hands on the tatami and kicked up. It took her a couple of shaky seconds to find her balance, but she managed to settle into a secure handstand. Now began the hard part.

She focused her energy in her right hand and let it flow to her index finger. It came out in bursts that almost made her topple over. She hadn't done this in too long.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to follow the advice she had given Yuusuke a week ago. He'd probably be poking fun at her if he saw her right now, and with good reason.

She could feel the beats of her energy, pulsing through her limbs and against her eardrums. _One_ – she counted the beats, like she used to when she was learning –, _two, three_. Slowly, youki began to flow out and lifted her from the ground, steadily this time.

Her energy had never been good for fine-tuning. Half-demons had a reserve of both youki and reiki, usually more stacked in favor of the former, and that made their energy flow unstable. Each operated in a different frequency, incompatible with the other, and that made them impossible to synchronize properly. Untrained, it manifested in poor control, bursts of energy that shouldn't happen.

Yuusuke had learned to do this handstand in a matter of days. It had taken her over a month with Master Genkai's continuous guidance to maintain the position for a full minute.

It had been trying, but necessary. A child with unrestrained power, be it spiritual or demonic, was an invitation for all sorts of malicious entities. She had needed to learn to keep it down or face sure trouble.

Makoto smiled when she ascertained that she hadn't completely lost her touch to do this exercise. Maybe she could still shoot. She had never needed to outside of training, but she wasn't naïve enough to think that she'd never have to resort to violence. Such was the world she was born in.

She didn't mind it half as much as she should have.

Footsteps approached the door. She didn't let them distract her.

"What is that posture? Straighten your back."

Doing an extra effort to be upright, she obeyed. Master Genkai's legs came into view.

"You should practice more."

"I know."

Genkai watched Makoto silently for a while. "I know your parents don't approve of you coming here so often, but if that is the case, you should find a way to train on your own in the city. Concealing your energy is useful, but if you are too rusty when you need to defend yourself, all your efforts will have been for naught."

'When you need to.' Not 'if.' The nuance didn't go over Makoto's head. She couldn't tell what it was, but since that night at the hospital, she felt as if something had been set in motion. It could be her imagination coupled with the nightmares, but she knew better than to overlook those vibes.

"I will do my best," was her reply. She couldn't have a very elaborate conversation while she concentrated on her energy not going haywire, anyway.

Genkai hummed and, after a few seconds, she said, "You should also know that you are always welcome here."

The older woman walked out, and Makoto fell to the ground as soon as she couldn't feel her presence around, more feeling more touched at her words than she would have wanted to.

—

"I'm home," Makoto said, shutting the door behind her and turning the key. Everybody should have been inside the house already.

"Welcome back, dear!" Came an enthusiastic voice from the kitchen while she undid the laces of her boots. "You're right on time for dinner! Go get ready!"

"Yes, mom."

Once her feet were free she walked upstairs quickly, left her backpack on the floor, leaning against her bed, and went to the bathroom to wash her hands. She'd have to bathe before bed.

The low table in the tatami room was set by the time she sat down, and her father was there, watching the news.

"Ah, Mako," he turned around, flashing her a gentle smile. "How was your weekend?"

"It was nice. We went hiking, swimming in the lake, that sort of thing." She lowered her gaze to the sleeves of her shirt and began tugging on its ends. "I missed it."

"You used to go there a lot with Nana," he said, trying to sound casual and failing. He was still having a hard time with his mother's passing.

She feigned she didn't notice it out of politeness. "Master Genkai sends her regards."

"I haven't visited her home in years," he shook his head as if it was something regrettable, but Makoto knew that his father, being as spiritually aware as a rock, had never really understood what that 'master' deal was about. "How is she?"

Makoto smiled lightly. "Unstoppable."

He laughed. "That's how I remember her."

"There you go!" Makoto's mother came in with a tray and three soup bowls that she quickly fit into the already crowded table. Putting the tray aside, she sat, and her face morphed from a wide smile, to shock, to horror when she looked at Makoto. "Mako? What happened to your face?"

She had almost forgotten she had an adhesive bandage plastered on her cheek. "I walked into a tree branch," she lied easily.

Makoto was sincere to a fault, she had been told a few times (by people who needed a thicker skin, in her opinion), but she still had to hide the nature of her escapade to her parents because they had never wanted to admit that their little girl was not normal, even after proof kept piling up.

If this was what it took to keep them in their happy bubble, she would indulge them. As when she had kept company to her dying grandmother, she owed them that much. If not for them, Makoto would have ended up in a childcare institution, at best. She knew many girls born with her peculiarity were not as lucky.

They had raised her like their own child. Given her a home, an education, treated her with love and never asked for anything in return. Family looked after each other, and she was willing to do her part. It was understandable that they wouldn't want a half-demon daughter with freaky future-telling powers.

So she lied, and she did not regret it, but it weighed on her.

"Are you going to keep running in the mornings?" Her father asked while he picked at his mackerel. "I thought you'd drop it after the first two days," he joked.

"I need the exercise. I should have never stopped in the first place."

"But Fumiko isn't going with you, right? You always complained about it before."

"I'm worried about that," her mother interjected. "I don't like you out there alone when it's still dark."

"I'll be fine," Makoto reassured her. "And I am not alone. A classmate runs with me."

"Ah!" Her mother's outburst almost made her father drop his food. "You made another friend at school?"

Makoto's chopsticks froze mid-way from the rice bowl to her mouth.

Was Kurama a friend? They had talked a few times – all right, more than a few. And they probably knew more about each other than it was comfortable, but that had been more or less inevitable. And now Kurama joined her on her morning runs, and she didn't mind the company.

"Acquaintance," she determined.

But her mother giggled. "You always say the same."

Makoto looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"It's always been the same. Whenever I ask you if you've got a new friend, that's your answer," she said with a smile.

Makoto's father joined in. "Remember when she started meeting Fumiko after school?" He grinned, and he said with a mock raspy, quiet voice at the same time as his wife, "'Acquaintance.'" Both broke into fits of laughter.

Makoto felt heat rushing to her cheeks. "That is not how I sound," she grumbled.

Her mother was the first to recover, but a smile was still escaping her. "Don't take it to heart, dear. We're glad that you are meeting new people."

"And what's her name?" Her father asked.

Oh, no. No, no, _no_.

She steeled herself for the reaction. "Shuuichi Minamino."

Her father didn't say anything right away, but her mother jumped at it with pure joy, "That's a boy's name!"

"Very perceptive, mom."

"Oh, shush. How is he? Does he live nearby? Do you like him?"

Makoto refused to raise her eyes from her meal. "No."

"Mako!"

" _No._ "

"It's for the best," her father declared, surprising both women at the table. "She's too young for boys."

Makoto's mother raised a pair of accusing chopsticks at her husband and said in an indignant tone, "Don't be a party pooper, Hideki."

"He's right," Makoto said.

"No, he's not!" And she shot back at him, "Who asked me out when I was fourteen, hm?"

"Tha-that was different! We didn't date until later!"

"Yes, because I turned you down!"

Makoto left her parents to their argument, relieved at being out of the spotlight and content to watch them bicker. At times, she caught herself wishing that this life could last forever.


	4. Chapter 4

I had a good laugh at the success that Makoto's fangirling of Genkai has had. We all fangirl her, no sense in denying it…

This is probably the point where updates will become more irregular, because I need to concentrate on the other story I'm writing. But I'll keep coming to this one! This fic is my breath of fresh air…

 **Guest:** Thank you! I've yet to read over chapter three again but if you catch any mistakes don't hesitate to tell me. I reread the chapters several times before posting them, but something slips past the radar always… Makoto adores Genkai, so we'll definitely see more of her fangirl ways. And the banter with Kurama is very fun to write but terrifying because I never know where the conversation will end up. He does what he likes.

 **Gabby:** Wah, you're so nice! Makoto's smarter than me so no worries, all the credit can go to her. Glad that you like the conversations with Kurama, because he is kind of nightmarish to write, and the dynamics with Genkai and Yuusuke. I also wanted to show her family a bit so we could see what background she comes from. I hope you keep enjoying the story!

 **Hermetics:** Thank you! Ah, there's not much lip-biting with Makoto, but she can't keep her hands still, so it may count…? Happy to hear that you like the characterization and Makoto's conversations with Kurama, because as I said above, I find him really hard to write (he's too dang smart). And let's all fangirl Genkai together. She deserves it.

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

It was today.

Makoto was lying on her back, bedsheets undisturbed for the first time that month, when she opened two eyes like black holes intent on sucking part of the ceiling. She felt the weight of her cat sleeping soundly at the end of the bed.

Certainty filled every cell of her body.

In no time, she had gone to the bathroom, gotten dressed, and was quietly donning her running shoes by the entrance of the house.

She opened the door to a sky that didn't yet hint at dawn. She was earlier than usual, but she was sure that Kurama would go out to meet her anyway.

It wasn't a good idea to be outside.

She slowed down to a walking pace when the cherry tree of the Minaminos' garden came into view. Just as she arrived, a window on the upper floor of the house opened, and Kurama appeared from behind a curtain.

"Sorry, I didn't expect you this early," he apologized. "I'll be there in a moment."

"No need," she said, and he stopped in his tracks. Makoto noticed with a good measure of satisfaction that he still had bed hair. "Something bad will happen today. Try not to be outside if you can help it. I am turning back now."

"You came all the way here to warn me?"

Makoto didn't think it was a strange thing to do. "I would have called, but I don't have your number. Not showing up would have been rude."

Kurama stared at her blankly for a second, said, "Hold on," and disappeared behind the curtain again.

When he came out the front door a scarce minute later, his hair was perfect. Makoto needed to know his secret.

"I believe that avoiding danger excuses you from being rude."

Makoto swept her gaze around them, as if she was looking for something, but her eyes were unfocused until she returned her attention to Kurama, who was staring pointedly at her face. "I am not in danger."

"What happened to you?"

"What do—" Kurama pointed to his own face and she automatically brought a hand to her cheek. The dull ache reminded her of the bruise she was hiding under the adhesive patch. "Ah. Yuusuke got a bit too carried away. It's okay, I hit back."

Kurama smiled at that. "I want to take a look around and see if there's anything suspicious. Let me accompany you home while I'm at it."

Makoto shrugged. "Suit yourself," and she began to head home. "An extra pair of eyes will not hurt."

Kurama ran along, not bothering with conversation this time around, paying close attention to their surroundings. Makoto eyes kept scanning everywhere as well. The streets were quiet, but an eerie feeling permeated them.

Reaching an intersection where they had to turn right, Makoto looked at the way left, halted, and whispered, "I have a bad feeling about that alley."

The rising sun cast elongated shadows on the street.

Kurama directed his attention to where Makoto had pointed and said right away, "There are two people."

"I can't hear them. Do you want to check it out?"

"Try not to make any sound," he said, and began approaching the corner of the alley. Makoto followed right behind him on high alert.

Two men stood in the middle of the street, idle and with vacant stares, but as soon as Makoto and Kurama appeared at the end of the street, they came to life and launched themselves at them, as if they had smelled them.

Kurama and Makoto dodged in opposite directions, and the men split up as well.

They were human, but their movements were not.

From up close, Makoto could see their eyes were rolled back and their mouths foaming. There was a sickness about their aura, something warped that, again, didn't fit in a human body.

She didn't have time for any more appreciations as one of them tried to make a grab for her and she slammed a knee under his sternum. When he doubled over to gasp for air, she kicked the attacker with her heel on the back of the neck, and he hit the ground with a heavy thud.

"They are out of their minds," she said, taking a closer look at the unconscious man and not bothering to check up on Kurama. If she was okay, he was okay for sure. Then something started crawling out the man's mouth, and Makoto took a step back before it was fully out, because she already knew what it was. For a month, those things had been haunting her dreams.

A flare of youki behind her made her turn around, and she watched Kurama step on bug that soon enough dissolved into thin air. Disgusted, she did the same with the one in front of her.

"You were right," Kurama said.

"I always am." She caught him sneaking a skeptic glance at her, and amended, "Most of the time, anyway."

"These insects should not be able to live in the Human World," Kurama said, staring with analyzing intent at the human before him. "They must be using an external source of power."

"Do you know exactly what they do?"

"They are parasites that burrow inside people and override higher thinking. They feed off of negative energy, so they only inhabit those whose souls are already tainted."

Makoto took a long look at the man she had knocked out. He was definitely the sort that you wouldn't want to run into in a dark alley. Like that one. "We should go. It seems that this is going to be a long day."

"Agreed. Let's be on our way."

—

At school, Makoto sneaked to the upper floor a few times that morning to talk to Fumiko, but apparently she had decided to play hooky precisely that day. She couldn't have had worse timing, and Makoto hoped that she had just decided to stay inside, but knowing her relationship with her parents, she knew it was wishful thinking. Her friend associated with sketchy people too often.

A girl from Makoto's class had also missed school that day. She wouldn't have paid any attention to it in normal circumstances, but between the insects and the fact no one wanted to miss review day with their exams so close, she found it suspicious.

Makoto was making her way down from the third floor for the fourth time that day, well after the last bell had rung, when she sensed someone moving at high speed behind her, and she turned around just in time to see a girl with blue hair and a pink kimono riding an oar in the hallway above, literally going through oblivious students.

Suffering from a massive deer in the headlights moment, Makoto watched dumbstruck as the girl flew in her direction. It was a matter of seconds, but she saw it coming in slow motion. She still didn't move, and the girl, who had at this point become a blurry pastel mess in Makoto's farsighted eyes, crashed right into her with an ungodly scream.

Makoto tumbled down the last couple of steps as ungracefully as one could expect after being headbutted by a wild oar driver. She broke the fall with her arms before she could land flat on her back, but her forehead throbbed like there was no tomorrow. She'd have a bump to go along with the bruise on her cheek.

There weren't many people on the hallway, but to their credit, they ran right away to Makoto's side to check up on her. They didn't need much convincing on her part to leave, but she appreciated the fact that if one day she tumbled down the stairs, her schoolmates wouldn't abandon the creepy girl knocked out on the floor.

As the other students shuffled away, Makoto saw the kimono girl on the floor near her, clutching her head with a loud 'OWWW' that nobody could hear. In fact, some people had walked through her without a care in the world.

It was then that Makoto noticed that she had seen her before. She was the girl who had come for her grandmother's soul at the hospital. She decided to wait until the hallway was clear to approach her, because it was too awkward to just ignore her after the crash.

She had to step over her oar to get to her. "Hey."

The girl moved her hands out of the way to look up at Makoto and jumped on the spot. "AAAHHHH! YOU CAN SEE ME!"

Makoto thought that it shouldn't have come as a surprise, since they had already been able to collide, but she wasn't sure if the girl was normally like that or it was the fault of the headbutt, so she kept it to herself. "You looked like you were in a rush."

The girl blinked at her blankly, then she opened her mouth in that distinctive fashion of people that just remembered they were forgetting something important. "Right! I am! I'm looking for someone!" She scrambled to pick up her oar and get up. "By any chance, you wouldn't know a guy called Kurama? Red hair, about this tall, winning smile and kind of scary?"

That was an accurate description if she had ever heard one. "I do. He should still be around. He's a member of the Chemistry club."

"Great! Can I ask you a favor? Please bring me there, I need to talk to him _now_." She scratched the back of her head and grinned. "I'm kind of lost!"

Makoto took a step back and regarded her coldly. "You are with the Spirit World. Is this about his sentence?"

"You know about it?" She was still smiling. "Yes, that's exactly it! We need his help right now!"

This wasn't the sort of answer that Makoto was expecting. "…Help?"

"It's a long story – Can you tell me where he is? This is a matter of life and death – Aaaahh, I still need to find Hiei!"

Unable to understand what was going on but feeling a growing pity towards the girl, Makoto said, "I will show you to the lab."

"Thank you! By the way, my name's Botan, I'm a guide of the Sanzu River!"

"I know that. I saw you a few weeks ago when you picked up my grandmother."

"Really? I'm sorry, I don't remember you! You are…?"

"Makoto Kodama."

"Kodama, Kodama… Ah!" She clapped her hands. "I remember! Mrs. Nanae Kodama! Very spirited woman – no pun intended!"

Makoto hoped so, because it had been awful. "Come this way," she motioned with her head and started walking, wondering if she was doing the right thing. While she was at it, she could try to get information out of Botan. "Is this related in any way to the Demon World insects?"

Botan went a funny shadow of pale green. "You know about those too?! Have you seen any?"

"As a matter of fact, I have."

She frowned. "That means they are spreading fast. We need to find Kurama, quickly!" She rushed Makoto.

The walk to the lab was short, but they had to go back up to the same floor they had come from.

"It's there," Makoto pointed at a door.

"Thank you!" Botan skipped all the way to it and then turned around. "Aren't you coming?"

"No. You are invisible, but I don't have an excuse to go in there."

"Oh, well." And with that, she disappeared through the door.

She relaxed against the nearest window and waited for the inevitable.

 _One, two, three._

Predictably, out came Kurama with Botan in tow, who was firing explanations rapidly. "—Four Saint Beasts to stop them from sending more insects to the Human World, but Prince Koenma think they'll be, um…"

"He shouldn't have sent two humans alone to the Demon World."

"We didn't have any other choice! That's why we need you and Hiei to help them!"

"I doubt very much that Hiei will go along with this."

To Makoto, it didn't sound like Kurama was very happy with the plan, either. Just as she shifted a little to look through the window, her eyes unfocused and she heard Botan yelling up a tree with Kurama by her side. 'Hiei,' she called.

It lasted a second. Makoto blinked it away and turned to the other two, running her fingers along the chain of her glasses. Unsurprisingly, they were still on the hallway.

The irony of her being the most normal person present wasn't lost on Makoto.

"Lord Koenma has agreed to review your sentence if you assist Yuusuke!"

Kurama looked at her with renewed interest. "Is that so?"

"Think of it as community service!"

"That sounds fair, I suppose," he said. "Where should we go now?"

"I—uh… I was actually hoping you'd know where we could find Hiei."

Kurama asked patiently, at least on the surface, "How should I know?"

"Takanomori park, up the old oak," Makoto said on reflex, and she lowered her eyes when the other two turned to her in unison. "That would be my guess."

"That isn't far," Kurama said. "Did you see him?"

"No, but I saw you two calling him."

Kurama didn't sound convinced, but he didn't have anything better. "It's worth a try."

"What are you talking about?" Botan asked, lost.

"I can tell you on the way," Kurama replied. "We have no time to waste."

"Good luck," Makoto said. "Whatever you are getting into again."

Kurama stared at her for a second and asked, "What are you going to do?"

Makoto cocked her head to one side and stared back, face completely inexpressive. "I should find Fumiko. God knows what trouble she is getting into."

"Be careful. We don't know how many insects have been unleashed in the city."

"Yes, yes," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Go save the world. I will keep an eye on this plane of existence."

"Before we go!" Botan exclaimed and searched inside her sleeves frantically until she pulled out a spray can and tossed it to Makoto. "The bugs will die if you spray them with this."

"Keep it, I do not—"

"Don't worry, I carry spares!" She said with a wide smile and sat on her oar. "Ready, Kurama?"

"Whenever you want."

Botan flew through the window, and Makoto was wondering how Kurama was going to catch up with the girl when he appeared to her side, stepped on the windowsill, and jumped down. From the third floor. In retrospect, it shouldn't have surprised her, but being surrounded by humans all the time made one more susceptible to shock before the unusual.

He said 'bye' as he passed her. Always so well-mannered. She, on the other hand, had momentarily forgotten how to speak.

Makoto contemplated the recent events in her life, the can in her hand, and her options. There were a few places she could try to find Fumiko at, and none that she particularly wished to visit, much less when a plague of hellish bugs were turning the city's population into violent zombies.

Yes, her life had definitely taken a turn for the bizarre. So many things crammed in a month.

She stuffed the can in her schoolbag and decided that her first stop would be the abandoned construction site where Keisuke and his biker friends hung out when they wanted to do wheelies to impress girls. Or compare who polished better their exhaust pipes. Whatever.

—

Makoto hadn't yet stepped into the construction site when a bad feeling washed over her.

The place had belonged to an expanding company before the crisis hit the economy, and as soon as it did, construction work had been paralyzed and the site abandoned. The only things left from the original project were rusty fences, materials that weren't worth the effort to take for scavengers, and the barebones structure of what should have become an office building. A few walls stood, decorated by gross graffiti, but there was grey all around otherwise.

This was not the only such place in the city, though it was the nearest to highly transited zones, enough that anybody willing to carry out illicit activities wouldn't use it for anything damning lest they'd be found quickly. Thus, it had been appropriated by students that wanted to play gangster and the occasional lowly thug.

Understandably, Makoto didn't want to be there, and the less she felt like it, the more she knew she was in the right place, so she pressed on.

There was something in the air, like a nearly imperceptible foul smell, and she followed it.

Past the wire fence, near one of the entrances to the building, she saw Keisuke's bike along with another two. Fumiko had told Makoto how sometimes they'd compete inside the building, taking advantage of the lack of walls inside, and drawing courses around the building's pillars. If the bikes were outside and the owners weren't in sight, she assumed they'd be inside, drinking.

As she entered the structure, Makoto was considering how much of Fumiko's rebel behavior could be blamed on overly controlling parents.

True to Fumiko's descriptions, the inner walls of the building hadn't been constructed, and the cement floor was covered with skid marks and oil stains. She noticed empty bottles, some of them broken, strewn all over, and had to wonder how many bikers had crashed because they couldn't be bothered to clean the place where they hung out. She didn't feel any sympathy for them.

Seeing that the floor was empty, she located the nearest staircase and went up, becoming with each step more certain that Fumiko was there.

When she got to the second floor, she smelled fear.

There were more materials scattered all around there, possibly because they had been too inconvenient to carry to ground level. A tall stack of bricks on a pallet blocked the vision of the floor from Makoto's point of view, but it also concealed her arrival. She padded to the stack to take a peek from behind when she heard Fumiko's voice only a few meters ahead. Makoto poked her head out.

Fumiko and a boy Makoto recognized as Keisuke were backed up against one of the outer walls as three other guys closed in on them.

Fumiko was standing in front of Keisuke and spitting a series of insults that made Makoto's soul likelier to end up in hell just by hearing them. The guys didn't seem to be reacting and just kept advancing towards her in that same strange manner as the attackers that morning.

Fumiko took a stance that meant business while Keisuke stood nervously to her side and kept looking at all the available exits. It didn't appear that he was going to be of much use.

As always, Makoto found her friend's taste in boys atrocious.

Makoto had seen Fumiko knock the breath out of a man twice her size, but three at once were too much for a single person plus frightened bait. She was about to come out to lend her a hand when Keisuke pushed Fumiko forward and ran for it, taking advantage of the surprise.

Fumiko's balance wasn't upset by much, but it gave the others enough of an opening to leap at her. Makoto rushed forward, youki flaring and caution tossed out the window, grabbed one of the guys from the neck of his jacket and flung him against the stack of bricks. At the same time, another of the attackers flew in the opposite direction to hit the wall behind Fumiko.

After years of placing highly tournament after tournament, the previous summer Fumiko had become the proud holder of the champion title at the Judo Inter-High Competition representing Meiou High. If anybody wondered why such a picky private school hadn't kicked out a problem child like her yet, that was the answer.

Makoto stuck a hand in her schoolbag, flung at Fumiko the can Botan had given her, and turned to face the remaining enemy. "Quick, spray the guy you just flattened in the face."

"You're a weirdo, you know that?" But she took the can anyway and did as told.

"I may have been told—" The guy tried to punch Makoto, but he was too slow, too human, and she moved out of the way on instinct alone. "—once or twice." A chop behind the neck and he dropped like a rock.

Makoto heard the sound of a motorbike speeding away. He hoped Keisuke ran very, very far away, because the day he crossed Fumiko again would be his last.

As soon as the man hit the floor, something began to crawl out of his ear. Makoto waited until it was fully out and stomped on it. She tried not to pay attention to the nauseating sound it made as she crushed it.

"I'm gonna guess these guys weren't drugged and you know what's going on," Fumiko said, walking up to her.

"Correct. Invisible giant fantasy bugs are possessing people and turning them into mindless beasts. No offense meant to beasts," she added after a beat.

"Wow." There was a pause. "Actually, no, it doesn't surprise me coming from you." She took a look at the can in her hand. "What is this thing? Some sort of bug killer?"

"Yes," Makoto said, and walked briskly to the man she had thrown to look for the bug between the fallen pile of bricks. Half of its body was trapped under one, but it didn't look worse for wear as it struggled to get out. Makoto stepped on it, as she had done two times that day already. "You can't kill them by normal means."

"So what's the plan? Do I go around spraying everybody in the face?"

Makoto stared at her friend blankly. "The plan is that we go home and wait for the storm to blow over," she explained, slowly, as if it were the obvious thing to do. Because it was.

"And how do you know it'll blow over on its own? We've got to do something!"

"The Spirit World is on the case. They will take care of it."

Fumiko gestured dramatically. "Ooh, the great Spirit World is taking care of it! Good, because you trust those guys _so_ much."

"The fact that I don't like them doesn't mean they aren't capable."

"Well, I didn't see any of those spirit guys helping me, and I'm sure there's more people in trouble out there."

"Fumi, no," Makoto said harshly. "I only came to get you. Let's go home and—"

They were moving, following a song, flying to a single place, _there was only the song, calling, guiding—_

 _Botan pulled a girl alongside her into a classroom and shut the door. Outside, somebody yelling a name. 'Yukimura.' Loud, aggressive, murderous. 'Yukimura!"_

 _All of them in a single place, and they didn't know, Botan and the other girl, but Makoto did, as surely as the sun rose every morning._

"—ko! Mako, snap out of it!"

Makoto blinked slowly. "…Eh?" Somebody was shaking her by the shoulders, and she had to put on her glasses to make out the blob in front of her face. Fumiko.

"Are you okay? You were out of it for half a minute."

"So long? I…" She brought a hand to her head, feeling dizzy, and she flinched when she touched the bruise Botan had given her. "Sorry, it was stronger than usual. Something—someone is sending a stream of energy. It's all over the city. I think they are guiding the bugs."

"Where?"

"A school. I don't know which. They are after two girls."

She closed her eyes and tried to force back the images.

Botan… She had a baseball bat… And the other girl… Was she wearing a uniform…? Blue…

"I think someone was wearing a blue sailor uniform."

"Did she wear a handkerchief or a bow? Come on, Mako!"

"I don't know." She racked her brains. She hadn't paid any attention to the other girl because she had been looking at Botan. "There was something yellow. That's all I remember."

"Blue and yellow… Hm… Could be Sarayashiki, could be that fancy Yuurei the opened a few years ago, could be that one... What was its name…?"

"Sarayashiki," Makoto said under her breath. "They should be at Sarayashiki."

"Jogged your memory?"

"No, but there is someone involved in this who goes there."

"Then it's decided! To Sarayashiki!" Fumiko took two big steps towards the stairs and Makoto stopped her by pulling on her jacket.

"Wait, Fumi! You shouldn't go there."

"Huh? Why not?"

"You cannot see the insects. It's too dangerous."

Fumiko snorted. "Please, what do I care about a handful of bugs? I can see the people they're taking over. That should be enough."

Her logic was sound, to Makoto's chagrin. "It's dangerous," she insisted, but she knew the matter was settled.

"I'm not gonna let you go alone, so come with me and let's see if these pricks' bikes are still out there," she said, searching the pockets of one of the men.

"…Are you going to steal one?"

"You know it! I'll give you a ride."

"You cannot be serious. We don't even have helmets."

Fumiko made an incredulous face. " _You_ can't be serious. Helmets? Really? This is an emergency! You can shoot sparkly rays and knock out a guy with a hit, and you are worrying about _helmets_?"

"It's not about security," Makoto said tiredly. "The police will give chase if they see us. Try to explain this monster bug emergency to them."

"Oh." Fumiko's expression turned thoughtful. "We'll just have to outrun them, then. Don't worry, I've got everything under control!"

Somehow, that statement didn't reassure Makoto at all.

—

The closer they got to the school, the stronger the impression that they were in a ghost town was. If Makoto had to make a guess, she supposed most people had noticed that something was wrong and holed up in their homes. Fumiko parked in the courtyard, and if Makoto had had any doubts about where all the insect carriers had gone, they were confirmed immediately.

A group of people were approaching the building's gates, moving in a way more reminiscent of a sleepwalker than a conscious person. There were five of them and taking on them physically would be asking for unnecessary trouble.

"Will you listen to me for once?" Makoto said quietly, readjusting her skirt and hiding her glasses inside the jacket of her uniform.

Fumiko was leaning on the motorbike's handlebar. "I can try."

Makoto knew this was as good as she was going to get. "I will take care of the mob first and then you can come in spraying like a champion. If you stand in front of me, I will hit you, so do not."

"Okay," Fumiko accepted, rolling the spray in her hands and grinning like a madwoman. "I can do that. Can't promise that I won't go after stray ones though."

"That's fine. Think they are Keisuke if that will make you hit harder."

"You know me too well."

Makoto flexed first one leg, then another, and that was the only warning she gave Fumiko before she started moving. She ran, concentrating her youki in her right hand and trying not to overdo it, because possessed or not, these were humans and she didn't want their blood on her hands if she could avoid it.

When she was close enough, she shot the energy from the palm of her hand, moving it in a sweeping motion so the stream of youki hit the people on the back, with the unfortunate side effect of breaking the glass of the school doors. Just as they fell on their faces, Fumiko was passing Makoto, brandishing her can like a sword and spraying the bugs that were coming out and she couldn't even see. Makoto thought that she was way too excited about the situation, but she couldn't deny she was useful.

She glanced at her hand, faintly glowing red. She hoped there weren't many people inside, or she was going to have a problem.

They went inside the building, crushing shards of glass under the soles of their shoes. The hallways weren't empty, and there were muffled sounds of a scuffle coming from above.

All the infected people were moving in the same direction, to somewhere upstairs, and they dealt with them the same way as with the previous ones.

There were more on the stairs as they tried to climb them, and more on the hallway of the second floor. They took them down fairly fast, and by the third group Fumiko and her were displaying the sort of coordination that only comes from having known someone for years.

Makoto wasn't sure if all the enemies were a blessing in disguise, since they were marking the correct way in an otherwise unknown building, but she wasn't comfortable wasting energy on them. It was hard enough to keep the potency of the attacks down, because this wasn't what her energy was made for – it tried to burst, to slip out of her control with each beat of its frequency. It was exhausting, and it wouldn't matter that she had youki to deal with a building full of weak enemies if fatigue was going to wear her down before she ran out of firepower.

She hadn't made this sort of effort in way too long, and she was regretting it immensely.

"Mako, you okay? You're sweating bullets."

In her concentration, Makoto hadn't noticed the drops falling down her temples and the back of her neck. Cold. A bad sign. Her breath was becoming ragged, too. "Yes, no need to worry. Let's press on."

Fumiko didn't look reassured, but she kept up with Makoto as they followed the pseudo-zombies down the corridor. They were all trying to cram themselves through a door.

"The girls must be there." Makoto's right hand glowed red again. "I hope it is not too late."

 _One, two—_

Youki and reiki pulsed inside her like two separate heartbeats, mixing the patterns of their flow, making it difficult to pick one and pull it outside her body. Lacking extensive experience, it required an extreme concentration that was in short supply the more tired she grew.

With a familiar sweeping motion, she took out the remaining people in the hallway, and she had barely taken two steps forward when her knees gave out, she lost control of her body and found herself careening towards the ground and losing consciousness. The last thing she thought before she passed out was that she hoped Fumiko would spray the bugs before picking her up from the floor.

—

In a mock reenactment of the first minutes of her morning, Makoto opened her eyes to the ceiling of a classroom.

She sat up slowly, still dizzy and with the unpleasant sensation of cold sweat behind her neck. If Master Genkai ever learned she had fainted in such a silly way, she'd kill her. With training, since that was her modus operandi, but she'd kill her for sure.

How embarrassing. This was why Makoto didn't like fighting. It was already bad enough toning down two radically different energies on her daily life, but to fight she had to use just one of them because they couldn't be combined. Unstable energy, prone to bursts, potentially destructive if released without care, and absolutely draining to regulate if she was trying not to cause too much damage.

She liked it better when she could sit out the action. She could point out who was going to be in danger and who was going to have a lucky day from a comfortable spot. Her talents were best employed like that.

"Good morning!" A voice to her right said, bringing her out of her miserable thoughts. Botan was grinning despite a trail of blood that went from her left temple to her chin.

"You were out for five minutes," Fumiko said. She was sitting on a chair next to the Sarayashiki girl, holding her hand. "Good thing the rest of guys dropped on their own, because this classroom was infested." She motioned with her head towards the door and Makoto saw a scenery of limp bodies.

"Are you okay?" The brunette asked. She sounded genuinely concerned. "Did they hurt you?"

"No, I passed out from exertion. Thank you for asking."

The girl smiled. "Don't! You came here to help us, after all." She gestured towards Fumiko. "She told us."

"We should get out of here," Fumiko said, serious for a change. Makoto supposed that it had unnerved her to watch her faint with no apparent reason. "We don't know what will happen when they wake up."

"We should call the police and an ambulance!" The brunette said, a little scandalized. "Professor Takenaka was unconscious in the staff room."

"Will do, but we can do it when we are outside," Fumiko insisted.

"Fumi," Makoto intervened, staring meaningfully at Fumiko's eyes. "Can you drive her home?"

Fumiko returned the look with a pokerface, but soon replied, "Okay!" She smiled at the other girl and patted her back. "Let's go, Keiko. The sooner we get you home, the better."

"But they—"

"We'll take a walk!" Botan said. "Fresh air will be good for us, right, Kodama?"

No one in their right mind would go for a walk after passing out. "Right."

Keiko looked unsure, but in the end she said, "All right. But Botan, I want you to explain to me what happened this afternoon. Don't think for a minute that I'll forget."

Botan laughed nervously, and Fumiko and Keiko were off. She deflated and doubled over as soon as they were out of the classroom. "For a moment I was sure we were done for."

"I thought so too," Makoto said morosely.

"Ah!" She perked up and snapped her fingers. "I need to call the guys! If these people are out of combat it must mean that they won!" She took out of a pocket a compact mirror and opened it. "Do you want to tell them anything?"

Makoto scooted up closer to Botan to watch into the case.

The mirror lit up suddenly, and Kurama's face appeared on screen. "Botan. How are things in the Human World?"

"It was close, but we made it! Did you stop the Four Saint Beasts?"

"Yes, but it was close for Yuusuke as well. He had to spend some of his own life energy to—" Kurama paused, apparently having seen something on the edge of his screen. "Is there someone else with you?"

"Yep!" Botan pulled Makoto closer until their faces were pressing together.

"Makoto? I thought you were going to find your friend…?"

"I did. And since she is a better person than me, she made us play heroes."

"Are you two okay?" He said, worried.

"Botan hit her head, but the difference hasn't been noticeable so far."

Botan laughed. "Well, I suppose—!" She cut herself short when she realized what Makoto meant, and snapped accusatorily, "At least I didn't passmpfh—!"

Makoto slapped a hand over Botan's mouth. "We are fine."

Kurama's eyebrows arched, but he kept his comments to himself. "All right. Hiei and I will get Yuusuke and Kuwabara to the Human World. Botan, we'll give you our report as soon as we bring them to safety."

Botan batted away Makoto's hand. "Be careful on the way out! See you later!"

"Later."

The screen blinked and went black. Botan pocketed the compact, stretched like a cat and smiled at Makoto. "Come on, let's go before the police arrive."

Both stumbled a little when they got up, but at least had each other to hold onto.

—

The next weekend, Makoto found herself sitting on the sofa of the Kuwabara's living room, listening to Botan tell Keiko some hogwash about a detective agency Yuusuke was working for. Well, it wasn't a complete lie, but she thought the hypnosis thing was a bit of a stretch. Still, Keiko believed it. The human brain could make some pretty big logic leaps to justify what it experienced.

Kuwabara's sister, Shizuru, was sitting on a chair near Makoto, smoking and listening with the calm of a person who's already seen everything, gone there, done that, and is just waiting for the sweet embrace of death to come envelope us all and take us to a better plane of existence.

Makoto found it charming. She had heard a little about her from Master Genkai, since they were acquaintances, but they had never had the chance to meet before. The Kuwabaras were, apparently, a family where reiki ran strong.

 _Kuwabara. Urameshi. Kodama._ All words related to the supernatural, a clear pattern in surnames that explained the apparitions of people with unusual power.

Curiosity was the reason why Makoto was in their house, feeling like a fish out of water around so many strangers. Even Fumiko had decided to pass.

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but the Kuwabaras seemed fairly normal. No mystic ambiance or arcane artifacts inside the house. Just furniture and nice people used to weirdness. It was a little anticlimactic.

All of a sudden, the quietness of the living room was broken by yelling on the upper floor. It sounded like Yuusuke had woken up, and all his destructive impulses alongside him.

"What are they doing?" Keiko said, glaring above and standing up.

"Let's check it out!" Botan suggested.

"Yes, let's. And I'm going to give Yuusuke a good piece of my mind for not telling me anything."

Botan snickered and followed Keiko out of the living room before turning for a moment. "Aren't you coming, Makoto?"

She didn't know what was better, to sit in awkward silence with an older girl she didn't know, or to stand in awkward silence around more people she didn't know but a couple she did. She chose the latter as the lesser evil and followed the girls upstairs.

The ruckus that they had heard was Yuusuke attempting to murder Kuwabara. His demeanor changed as soon as he saw Keiko and Botan pop through the door, but his happiness lasted as long as he took to notice the look on Keiko's face.

Soon, they were all on the way home.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for lunch?" Kuwabara asked, as he walked Kurama, Botan and Makoto to the door, a while after Keiko and Yuusuke were gone.

"I'd like to, but my mother is waiting for me," Kurama said, polite as always.

"Same," Makoto whispered.

"Maybe another time?" Botan suggested. "I need to report to Prince Koenma right ASAP. He needs to know that our Spirit Detective is awake and kicking again!"

"Seriously?" Kuwabara grimaced. "Don't you think a vacation is in order after what we went through?"

"Crime never sleeps!" Botan said cheerfully. "And by the way, you have the thanks of the Spirit World for helping. You too, Makoto. We were very shorthanded for this mission." And then she laughed, as if she hadn't just admitted the Spirit World's inability to manage crises without external help.

"That seems to be a recurring theme as of late," Kurama pointed out.

"What can we do?" Botan shrugged. "It's good to have you around, though. Yuusuke may need help until he grows into his boots."

"Well, if it happens again you can count on the great Kazuma Kuwabara!" He tried to stand upright and puff out his chest, but instead he doubled over in pain.

"Still sore from the fights?" Botan chirped.

"Y-yeah…"

They bid their farewells and went their separate ways, though Makoto and Kurama had to share a part of their route. They walked in silence for some time, until Makoto asked, "Did they tell you anything about your sentence?"

"Oh, they are reviewing it, but you know how these things go. Bureaucracy takes its time."

He had a knack for employing sarcasm with an absolutely sincere tone.

"So they are drawing out the process so they can yank your chain for longer?"

"Basically. But I am in no position to protest."

"Figures that they would do something like that."

"You don't seem to have much sympathy for them."

"Why should I? They are a danger to people like me. They don't want us in the Human World at all and are on the lookout for the slightest mistake to arrest us. I have seen it happen."

She remembered the two half-demons that had stopped after school, and a few more that had left their gang in mysterious circumstances. No one had looked into their disappearances. Their families were a wreck, as expected from their unusual birth circumstances. And the people who knew better wouldn't do anything for fear of getting caught in a Spirit World investigation.

"Do you know many half-demons in the city?"

"A handful of them. As far as I know, most have banded together to form a gang."

"Safety in numbers?"

She began to fiddle absently with the hem of her right sleeve. "And power abuse, but yes, that is the reasoning."

"You don't sound fond of them, either."

She thought a bit before replying, and she started in her usual monotone, "We are not on bad terms, but we do not have anything in common. They have decided that no matter what they do they are going to be the dregs of society, and they are fine to go with the flow. And they find me as unsettling as any regular person. I see no benefit in associating with them."

"Those two the other day weren't exactly avoiding you," Kurama remarked.

"Whatever their feelings towards me are, it's useful to have around someone with foresight."

"Now that you mention it," Kurama said casually, "Hiei was indeed at Takanomori park."

The corners of Makoto's mouth turned up. "Heh."

Kurama smiled, amused at her reaction. "Should I interpret that an 'I knew it'?"

"Yes."

"It helped a lot. Thank you."

Makoto diverted her eyes to her surroundings as they kept strolling. It was a perfect little residential zone, with perfect two-story homes, perfect little gardens and fences, and perfectly straight streets forming a perfect grid. The only people on sight were housewives on the way from buying groceries and students heading out on their day off.

It was safe, efficient, artificial, constraining.

Makoto was self-aware enough to suspect that she was unconsciously making up metaphors about her own life.

"Can I ask you something?" She said.

"You just did," he said amicably.

She smiled a little. "How was the Demon World?"

Kurama stared at her with interest for a bit before replying. "Why do you want to know?"

"Why should I not?"

"Fair enough," he conceded. "It was…" Kurama closed his eyes for a few seconds, as if allowing himself to conjure images of the past. Makoto would have paid a fortune to actually see them. "Wide. Untamed. Unforgiving. For the most part, the only law accepted everywhere was strength. Wilderness stretched so far that you could never hope to see its end, even with a demon's lifespan."

Despite the overall negative vibe of the description, Makoto couldn't help but notice that his voice was laced with nostalgia. It wasn't obvious, but it was there, and it felt sad.

"It was…" He hesitated. "It's difficult to describe. It wasn't what you would call a pleasant place, but..." He trailed off again.

"You miss it."

"I suppose in a sense I do," he said, making a point of not looking at her.

Makoto sighed silently. "Sorry if that brought up memories."

"You have nothing to apologize for. I chose this life willingly and I don't regret it."

"Never?"

"Not for a second," he said, and flashed a smile that could have melted a glacier.

Makoto couldn't understand what he had found in his human life that he held so dear, but she felt it wasn't her place to ask.

They separated on the next crossroad, each one heading for their respective homes. Makoto looked up at the sky and the horizon only to be met with trees and concrete, and tried to imagine how it would be to have before her an unending world to discover.

But for now, curiosity aside, she found herself more or less content with the little mysteries home.


	5. Chapter 5

The half-demons mentioned in this chapter and the previous ones appear in a gag chapter after Suzaku's defeat, only in the manga. If you haven't read it, I suggest you to do it to see Spirit Detectives with very sore muscles, a grumpy Hiei, and Kurama being a little shit. And also to understand a few references in this chapter.

If I'm being completely honest, Makoto was born after seeing all those background characters and thinking that the city was full of half-demons and it was a pity that we were never shown one. The idea grew from there…

 **Hermetics:** I got your review right when I was about to upload this chapter! Thank you so much for your kind words. I haven't read much YYH fic either, so I couldn't tell you if it's been done before! I'm just doing what feels right, to me at least. I'm glad that you are liking the relationship between the girls, because Makoto is going to spend a lot of time with them. Writing female friendships is one of my favorite things and the YYH girls are awesome, every single one of them.

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

It should have been back to normalcy for Makoto. Back to studying for the upcoming finals and making plans for all the things she wasn't going to do during the school break in March.

Less than a week had passed since her visit at the Kuwabaras' when she woke up one morning cocooned in her blankets. It took her a minute to wrestle out of them.

Insects. The dreams were back.

She told Kurama when she saw him. He suggested that it might be her subconscious playing tricks on her. Makoto was pretty sure that she hadn't been traumatized by a plague of giant demon zombifying bugs, but with that description one could never be sure.

Fumiko had decided to miss school that day again, so Makoto didn't tell her, and in fact thought it was better if she didn't do so. Fumiko would be too willing to join the party to spray the soul out of those bugs if the insect apocalypse happened again.

Makoto decided her afternoon would be best spent on a quick trip to the bookstore and reviewing at home.

She wanted to take a look at the study books, really. She hadn't meant to be sidetracked by all the new manga magazines.

She was taking a sneak peek at the latest Slam Dunk chapter when she sensed two familiar presences nearby, and she peered discreetly over the magazine pages at the other side of the bookshelf. The two half-demons she had run into the other day were there, and she turned away from them as soon as she saw them, but it was still too late.

"What's up, Kodama!"

They approached her confidently, with smirks on their faces _, and they were lying on the floor, beaten to a pulp by a bunch of delinquents—_ Makoto blinked a few times, face blank, until she could focus again on their faces.

How interesting.

They clearly noticed that something had happened, because their smiles froze and the taller one asked, hesitantly, "…Is something wrong?"

She stared, cocking her head slightly to one side and considering her next words. "Not yet, but soon, I think."

The two boys exchanged nervous glances. Now that she paid attention to it, they had a resemblance to Yuusuke and Kuwabara, if she squinted hard, put on her reading glasses and turned off the lights.

"What do you mean?" Asked the Yusuke lookalike.

"You are going to get trashed," she said without a trace of sensitiveness. "I'm sorry. But you were still breathing, so you should be fine."

"B-breathing?"

"That's impossible," said the taller one, resting a hand on his waist and trying to appear confident, but his smirk was slightly shaky. "Come on," he pated his friend on the back, "you know our plan can't fail. We've got an army with us."

She supposed that explained the delinquents in her vision. She shrugged. "Do not tell me later that I did not warn you."

"Sure." Looking a bit more reassured, the shorter one changed the subject. "Hey, Kodama, that classmate of yours the other day—who was it?"

"You said it. A classmate," she said evasively. "Obviously, a demon."

"And what's he doing in Meiou?"

"Studying. Keeping a low profile, like all of us should."

He sniggered. "Yeah, sure. Just thought it was weird that you knew a dangerous guy like that. You haven't told him anything about us, have you?"

She couldn't have even if she had wanted to. One day she'd learn their names. One day. "I have not, and he did not ask."

"Oh. Good. You okay, though?"

Makoto raised her eyebrows at the question. "Why would I not?"

"Having that guy around can't be good," the taller one said. "You need help with him?"

They couldn't have helped against Kurama even if she had asked, but Makoto felt touched at their odd display of concern. She hadn't thought they were capable of it. "No, it is all right," she said, even showing a tiny smile in the process. "We get along and he is not a threat at the moment. You need not to worry."

"Good to hear," he said, and grinned, "We half-demons gotta look after each other, right?"

"Yeah," his friend said, "Who else would?"

"Who else indeed," Makoto echoed.

—

To be fair, if she set aside the bug dreams, the only sign that the previous month had happened, along with all its wacky paranormal stuff, was that Shuuichi Minamino kept talking to her, and apparently that was something noteworthy to her fellow students. So much, in fact, that a few of them had started to speak to her regularly.

She wasn't sure if it was because they wanted to follow the honor student's example, or because now they thought she was safe to approach, since Kurama hadn't fallen victim to any nasty curse.

It was awkward. It became even more awkward when, on a day that he had excused himself from class claiming to be sick, three girls had asked her, separately and at different points of the afternoon, if she could 'deliver a letter to Minamino.' Fumiko laughed about it for days.

The girls must have talked the idea among them beforehand and jumped at the opportunity when he was gone. It was the only logical explanation.

A day later, Makoto stared at the bundle of accumulated letters in her hand and thought bitterly that she had gone from undesirable subject to postwoman, and she liked the former better.

When she opened her locker to retrieve her shoes and go home, she was greeted by yet _another_ letter.

She took it out and inspected the envelope. 'To Minamino.' This was ridiculous.

"Do you have a secret admirer?"

Makoto nearly jumped out of her skin, but settled on just getting the chills. She turned around, aggravated, ready to shove the four ( _four!_ ) letters at the boy behind her.

" _You_." She held the enveloped in front of his face. "These are for you. Would you kindly tell your fanclub not to use me as a go-between?"

Kurama's surprised face soon changed to uncomfortable when he took the letters from her hand, and it was difficult to stay annoyed at him with when he had that look in his eyes.

"My apologies. Are they bothering you?"

She looked around furtively to make sure no one was listening. "People are talking to me," she whispered with urgency. "Do you know how strange that is?"

"That is certainly unsettling."

"Laugh all you want, but I'm getting undue attention and it's your fault."

"Would you rather I didn't speak to you?"

The question didn't come completely out of the left field. Makoto had entertained the idea during the past few weeks, if briefly, because much to her dislike, she found out that the idea of Kurama not talking any more to her was incredibly disappointing.

Makoto wasn't a person that felt lonely often, even if she only had one friend and a cat. But it was relieving to have around somebody as weird as her, somebody who understood how it was to be the only person who could see the ghost in the room, to live aware of presences no one else felt, and always wary of attacks of malicious beings. She could talk to Fumiko about it, but she couldn't grasp the extent of it, and Master Genkai lived too far away to be knocking on her door every other day.

So her answer was clear, if roundabout. "If I did not want you to speak to speak to me, you would not need to ask."

Kurama smiled. "I'm glad to hear that, because I was wondering if you'd care to go for a tea before heading home."

Makoto stared at him with a deadpan, at first because she thought she had heard him wrong, and then because she almost wished she had heard him wrong. She glanced at her surroundings, unnecessarily, but to make a point. "If you are trying to get rid of me, you are not being subtle."

"I think you will be safe. If they are using you as a messenger, it means they don't perceive you as a threat."

"That is the excuse I would use, too, if I was trying to get me killed. But…" She ran her fingers over the chain of her glasses, scrutinizing Kurama's face for the slightest bit of… anything, really. But he appeared sincere in his suggestion. Not that he wouldn't if he wasn't. She found him so frustrating to read. "I suppose it will not do any harm. Let's go."

—

The café was noisy enough to conceal conversation but not to be bothersome.

"—and that is how Fumiko started talking to me and I creeped out all the kids in elementary school at the same time," Makoto said, absently playing with the teaspoon in her drink while she looked at its contents.

"I see. That explains how you became friends despite being so different."

"I didn't want anything in return. She stuck with me out of misplaced gratitude."

"Weren't you happy to gain a friend?"

Makoto looked up at him quizzically. "How do you miss something you have never had?"

She realized she had the answer right as she finished the question.

Longing for something she had never known was a feeling she was all too used to. All her life, in every moment of peace, of contentment, knowing she had a perfect life and nothing more she could ask for, it was there. Missing an air she hadn't breathed and a land she hadn't walked but knew was different. It was entrenched in the very fabric of her being, undetachable, intrusive, set on spoiling what for other people would have been pure satisfaction.

She averted her eyes back to her cup.

"Of course. You are right," Kurama said, and Makoto was a little relieved that he let it go so easily. "Say, those two acquaintances of yours we ran into the other day… have you had any news of them?"

Makoto sensed that this was the actual reason that she was having tea with the most sought after guy of her school, and she didn't mind at all. "What are they doing now."

Kurama's eyebrows went up at the deadpan question, but he replied, amused. "'Were,' actually."

"Figures." She remembered her vision. "So it was your doing. Remind me to never get in your way."

"I didn't do much, to be fair. Hiei helped and the work wrapped itself up."

"That sounds very enigmatic, but you realize that I still don't know who this famous Hiei is, and I have no inkling of what happened?"

"I can't say I'm certain of what my alleged 'doing' was, either," he remarked in that way of his that sounded innocent and was everything but.

The noise that escaped Makoto was a cross between a strangled laugh and a snort. "Fair is fair. I saw them a few days ago. They were planning something, said they had an army, and I saw them getting beaten up by some thugs. I warned them."

"And they didn't believe you?"

"I think they did, but it didn't matter," Makoto shrugged lightly and the corner of her mouth quirked up. "We all do things we know aren't good for us, occasionally."

Like driving into a school infested by dangerous demon bugs with a normal human as her only backup. She lifted the teacup to her lips, and the smell of spices of the chai tea rose from it, invitingly.

"Certainly," he conceded. "It turns out that they were picking fights with gangs while impersonating Yuusuke and Kuwabara."

Makoto tried to cough discreetly after her tea made a turn for the wrong duct. "Are you serious?" She said with some difficulty, voice raspier than usual. To Kurama's credit, he was polite enough not to laugh audibly. "They don't look anything alike. Why would they do that?"

"They wanted to trick the gangsters into fighting Yuusuke, and they'd come in at the last moment to steal the kill. Normally humans wouldn't be a match for them, but they were sort of…" Kurama covered his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to hide a smirk while he found the right word, "…indisposed after their fights against Byakko and Suzaku, I should say."

Makoto wanted to know what he meant by 'indisposed,' but then again, perhaps it was better not to know. "Do you think they'll be targeted often now?"

"It's hard to say. There aren't many demons living in the human world who could pose a risk to them, but if experience is anything to go by, some will try, regardless. It would do wonders for some nobody's reputation to be the one to kill the newest detective of the Spirit World."

"And what has it done for your reputation?"

"I am now a traitor to my race, but considering the kind of people that are saying it, I don't think I should worry about what they think." And he smiled, pleasantly and satisfied.

Makoto pushed her teaspoon back and forth with her index finger, thinking. She understood Kurama's point, but still, he could sympathize with the demons that were looking at the situation from the outside. He was collaborating with the Spirit World, and that made him a turncoat in their eyes. He could talk easily about it, but Makoto doubted that he was fully content with the situation. They hadn't given him a choice to begin with.

Then there was the matter of Yuusuke and Kuwabara. Two humans that had been thrown into a world they knew nothing of. Makoto hadn't talked much with Kuwabara, but had seen enough of Yuusuke that he wasn't a bad person, even if he was rough around the edges.

She glanced darkly towards the table. "I never thought I would say this about a Spirit Detective, but I'm sorry that he got mixed up in King Enma's affairs. He was a normal person just a few months ago. Neither he nor Kuwabara know the world they have gotten into."

Kurama's eyes softened. "Nothing we can do about it now, except lend a hand to make sure they don't meet an untimely end."

Makoto looked at him as if he had said something strange. "Why do I sense that that 'we' includes me as well?"

"Because you have proved to be keenly perceptive person so far, and not insensitive to other's troubles."

"Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere, and I don't owe anything to Yuusuke."

"You didn't owe anything to Botan or Keiko, either, but there you went."

"Touché." Makoto released a silent sigh. "Is it possible to ever win an argument against you?"

Kurama chuckled. "Experience is key in debates."

The words stayed in Makoto's head for a while before she fully understood their meaning. She knew Kurama had lived a different life fifteen years ago, and she could guess he had been an adult in his other life, but she hadn't thought of asking his real age. There was too much variance in demon's life expectancies to pinpoint one on her own.

"How old are you, really?"

Kurama stared at her with curiosity and said, "I lost count at some point after a thousand."

He had probably been expecting surprise, or another chance to see her choke on her tea. Instead, Makoto looked at him with what only could be described as open, unadulterated pity, and she simply said, "I hope you burn those letters without opening them."

Kurama couldn't help it this time, and laughed.

—

Life didn't manage to stay normal a single week, even if Makoto's recurring nightmares now had become a type of normalcy.

It was Friday and she was locked in her room, curtains drawn, doing homework well past dinnertime. Her cat was curled up in her bed tapping his stubby tail on the covers.

He grew still at the same time all of Makoto's alarms went off, and before he could stand up and hiss, Makoto had already turned off the light and jumped from her desk to the window. Three figures stood on the street, right outside the Kodamas' property.

Her cat leaped onto the windowsill, twitching his only ear as he, too, stared at the strangers.

Three demons. A woman, a short man and an enormous one that couldn't pass for human even if he wanted.

They were strong and they weren't welcome.

Makoto slid the window open with a snap and flared her energy menacingly. She didn't mind that they hadn't made any hostile movements. This was _her_ house, _her territory_ , and anyone who approached it like this was a threat to be removed.

"What do you want?" She demanded, voice low and quiet simply because she didn't need to raise it to be heard.

The figures shifted, but they didn't look nervous. There wasn't any spike in their energies to indicate an oncoming attack. They weren't looking for a fight, but Makoto didn't want them there any longer.

It was the woman who spoke. She would have looked completely normal if it weren't for a horn in the middle of her forehead. "We were just making the rounds through the neighborhood."

"Funny that you would stop in front of my house to take a break."

Apparently, the woman did find it amusing, because she laughed softly. "We have no further business with you. Save your concern for your friends. Goodbye."

And in a flash, they were gone.

Makoto locked the window with more force than she had opened it and let go of the curtain.

The woman had told her to be concerned for her friends. Fumiko?

She didn't sense any traces of youki around besides hers. If they had broken into her house, it would have been noticeable even from Makoto's room.

 _Kurama?_

She went to the door, but she stopped when her hand was hovering over the handle. It was late. She did get his number after the incident with the insects, but she could wait until the morning too. Was she jumping to conclusions?

She opened the door anyway and made her way to the phone downstairs. She tiptoed the last stretch, trying to avoid the scolding her parents would give her if they found out she was calling classmates at this hour. She couldn't really tell them that it was an emergency.

Makoto dialed the number from the agenda beside the phone and hoped that Kurama would be the one to pick up on the other side. She rolled the cord of the phone around her free index finger as she listened to the ringtones.

They picked up. "Hello?"

No such luck. It was his mother's voice.

"Ms. Minamino? I'm Makoto. Could I speak to Shuuichi?"

"Makoto! It's so nice to talk to you!" She didn't sound like she was just being polite. "I think he's still studying in his room. I'll call him right away. You should visit us sometime! Shuuichi talks about you, but I'd like to see you again."

"I…" Makoto began, unsure what to say, but she was spared the trouble.

"Ah, he's here!" There was some shuffling on the other end of the line, and Ms. Minamino said, "Please, come soon. I want to thank you for all the company you kept me while I was ill."

"It was nothing worth thanking, Ms. Minamino."

The handset switched hands, and soon it was Kurama's voice on the other side. He sounded more serious than usual. "Is something wrong?"

"That is my question."

A beat of silence, and then, "Did something happen?"

"Three demons showed up right outside my house," Makoto whispered into the receiver, checking constantly for sudden parental appearances. "They didn't do anything, but they told me I should worry about someone else. Fumi and my family are fine, so I cannot think of a better candidate than you."

If hear ears weren't deceiving her, she was sure she had heard a faint groan on the other side. Someone was in a bad mood.

"I know which demons you are speaking of. They must be scouting the area. Or watching certain people…"

"Kurama, what is going on?"

"They are messengers. I met them earlier today, as did Hiei and Kuwabara. I didn't think they would linger," he explained, as if that settled the matter.

"You are deflecting the real question."

She heard him sigh on the other side. "Makoto, you shouldn't get involved in this. Forget what you saw. They won't bother you again."

That riled her up, and her words came out accusing and sharp-cutting. "Why should I? You cannot guarantee that they will not be back, I want to know why they were watching my family's house, and I want to know what in what sort of danger you have gotten yourself into that you won't even tell me. I won't let this go without an explanation."

Kurama didn't reply right away, but it was a positive development, since she had assumed he'd just hang up after her outburst. "I got an invitation for the Dark Tournament, and so did Hiei, Kuwabara and Yuusuke."

It was her turn to stay silent. If he hadn't been deadly serious, she would have assumed it was a tasteless joke.

Makoto didn't spend much time around non-humans, but she didn't live in a bubble. She was aware of what the Dark Tournament was and what happened to the guest teams. It was an excuse for demons and rich men to get rid of those who were bothering them too much. Yuusuke and Kuwabara had made a name for themselves, and Kurama and Hiei had become notorious for siding with humans. They were obvious candidates, and she should have realized sooner.

"You can't participate," she said, and she noticed the hand she didn't have on the receiver was a little unsteady, so she gripped it with both hands. "It's a death trap."

"We can't refuse," he countered. "There only way out of this is through it. You know it as well as I do."

She did, and that was why she didn't keep arguing despite wanting to. "When?"

"The last week of March. It's a good thing that I won't have to miss school," he said, but the humor felt forced before the prospect of dying and having to miss school forever.

"So nice of the organizers to host it during spring break. What do you plan to do?"

"Prepare as well as I can."

Makoto tried to find a sensible way to object to the entire situation, because guest teams simply did _not_ come back from Hanging Neck Island, but denying the circumstances wouldn't make them go away. "I don't like this one bit," she said, defeated.

"I assure you, neither do I." Indeed, he sounded worried, but still not as much as when they had first talked in the hospital. It could have been because he held his mother's health above his own or because he was still considering his options. "Are you free tomorrow?"

The sudden question took Makoto of guard. "I was going to stay at home. Why?"

"Can you meet me at the train station at ten?"

She could do that. "All right. See you there."

Makoto had no doubt that, coming from Kurama, the request would be worth the trip, so she didn't ask why. She'd know in a matter of hours, after all. Years of watching events unfold before they happened had made her lose a lot of interest in knowing what the future held.

—

Makoto pulled on a pair of grey stirrup leggings, a turtleneck shirt in the same color, and her favorite hoodie for the occasion (yellow, with walking black cats around the hem that ended well past her butt). Her glasses went inside the hoodie, always hanging from their chain. Heaven help her if she ever needed to read anything without them.

Her cat walked between her legs and made her trip at the top of the staircase, and she had to thank her inhuman genes for the speedy recovery mid fall. Perfect static landing. Nothing happened.

"Doraemon," she called from the bottom.

He twitched his only ear and walked away haughtily. Makoto left him to his own and went to the kitchen for something quick to eat.

"Good morning, dear!" Her mother greeted happily. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes." No sense in hiding it, and she didn't want to answer the questions that would follow, mainly because she had no idea _where_. "You don't have to work today?" She busied herself looking for a piece of fruit in a cabinet.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? I was given Mariko's schedule after she left. Now I'll have free weekends! Isn't that great? Now we can all spend time together."

Makoto had mixed feelings about that. "That's good." She took a banana and made for the door.

"Wait!"

Makoto froze mid-step and slowly turned her head around.

"Will you be back for lunch?"

"Not likely."

"Are you going to the library?"

"You know it," she lied. Or not. Most likely she was, but she had no way to know.

Her mother scrunched her nose, looking a little disappointed. She probably had wanted to spend the entire day with her and her father. "With how much you're studying, I hope you get first place when your exam results come out."

"I would not count on it. Competition is fierce."

"Well then, you better come back for dinner or I'll drag you away from the books myself."

Makoto smiled softly at her mother and left before she thought of more questions.

—

She arrived at the train station with ten minutes to spare, but Kurama, always the apparent gentleman, was already there.

"Hello," he greeted with a smile. "Our train should be here in no time."

They stopped to buy lunch at the station's shop before going to the platform to wait for their ride.

"Where are we going, exactly?" Makoto twirled her train pass between her fingers as they looked for free seats.

"To pick up Kuwabara. He should take this train two stops from here, and then we'll go to the outskirts of the city. Hiei knows a spot in the mountains outside of Sarayashiki where we can prepare for the tournament without being bothered." They found two sets of seats facing each other and sat there, opposite of each other. "It isn't ideal, but it will have to do. Kuwabara needs all the training that he can get before we leave for Hanging Neck Island."

"Is Yuusuke with Master Genkai?"

"He was leaving this morning to meet her."

"I see you spent the afternoon making calls."

He nodded gravely, releasing a sigh. "And meeting people in person, unfortunately. Your call, though, was unexpected."

"I did not expect guests at my home, either," she said apologetically.

"Do you know how long they were there?"

"A couple of minutes, maybe. I am positive that I sensed them as soon as they walked by. Doraemon did, too."

"Doraemon?"

"Our housecat."

Kurama smiled. "Is he blue?"

"He is missing an ear and most of his tail. He must have gotten into a fight when he lived on the streets."

"I didn't think you were the sort to pick up strays."

"I never said I picked him up."

"Did you not?" He pressed.

"…I did," she admitted in a whisper, and she switched the topic before he could make any comments. "By the way, I appreciate that you aren't keeping me in the dark about this."

"Chances were that you would find out on your own, and you did get an unwanted visit last night because of us. I think it's fair."

It was likely she would have found out through other means, that was true. She doubted that the identity of the guest team for the tournament would be kept secret for long. There were leaks every year, possibly encouraged by the organizers themselves to build up the hype. The kinds of people summoned to the Dark Tournament were often those whom the target audience would want dead.

Two teenage humans and two demons branded traitors for the current edition. They fit the requirements. Admittedly, the bar was set low, but one of them was a Spirit Detective, and the names Hiei and Kurama were famous in the underground.

Come to think of it, she had heard the name 'Kurama' a few times before meeting the person in front of her. Were they the same demon at all? He was certainly old enough to be him. How many famous thieves with that name could there be out there?

Maybe she would ask him someday, but she had the impression that he wasn't very fond of talking about the past.

Kuwabara took some time to find them after they reached his stop, and if they hadn't seen him standing on the platform, taller than everybody else around and with bright orange hair, they'd have thought he had missed the train.

"Yo, Kurama! I went through three cars to… Huh? Makoto's here too?" His smile morphed into a face of horror. "You didn't get an invitation, did you?!"

"Fortunately not," she said, glancing sideways at the window and wrapping a lock of hair around her index finger.

Kuwabara, now at ease, grinned at her as he sat next to Kurama. "Then you're here to help?"

His aura was vibrant and had a warm quality, even after receiving bad news of this caliber. Makoto thought it was admirable.

"Actually, I am not entirely sure what I'm doing here, other than finding answers."

"It would be good if you could keep an eye on the perimeter so no one runs into us while we're training," Kurama suggested. "The area is supposed to be isolated, but I'd rather not take any chances."

Makoto looked at him with interest, a contrast with her constant bored tone. "And thus the real motives surface."

"Don't get me wrong," a small smile escaped Kurama, "it's true that I thought you deserved an explanation."

Makoto wondered why, but she didn't question it. She didn't think she had done anything to warrant this disclosure of information other than badger him over the phone. She was about to tell him that nobody owed her anything when Kuwabara spoke.

"But Hiei's gonna be with us too, right?" His face went sour, and then, very serious, he told Makoto, "Be careful with him," he said, and raised his hand about a meter from the floor. "He's about this tall, but he's as short as bad tempered. He'll bark if you talk to him, so stay far from him."

"Kuwabara, that's not true."

"Might as well be," he grumbled.

"Aside from the lack of barking, he goes past shoulder size if you count the hair," Kurama said, and Kuwabara sniggered. "It's true that he has a short fuse, but I don't think we'll need to worry about Makoto being on its receiving end."

Kurama glanced discreetly at the boy next to him, and Makoto immediately had an idea of who would.

"I'll behave," Makoto assured them.

"It's he who should behave." Kuwabara crossed his arms and told Makoto like a father would, except Makoto's father had never put this sort of embarrassing display, "If he says anything nasty to you, I'll take care of him right away."

"How gallant of you," Makoto said, half placating and half mocking.

"That's me! Kazuma Kuwabara, a gentleman among gentlemen!"

Makoto refrained from making another remark because she thought he was endearing and because Kurama looked visibly relieved at Kuwabara's mood change. He was quick to change the subject to the kind of exercises he had thought for Kuwabara, Hiei wasn't mentioned again (but a koorime he and Yuusuke had met shortly before was, and Kuwabara politely asked Makoto if she could inform him, from a purely female point of view, how manly his techniques looked so he could impress the girl the next time they met) and the train ride ended up being a pleasant one.

She would make this trip more than a fair amount of times in the coming two months, of that she was sure.


	6. Chapter 6

There's a chance that I won't be able to post another chapter until November, because I'll be busy preparing for a convention at the end of the month (I'll be cosplaying Genkai in a group of YYH girls, _woohoo_!). The upside is that I'll start my vacation then, so hopefully I'll be able to write more than usual next month.

This chapter was weird to write. The parts that I thought would be better turned out to be meh, and the ones that I didn't think were going to be anything special ended up the best, in my opinion. That's up to you to decide, though!

 **YuYu4Ever:** Makoto has grown up reading and watching Doraemon, like any 80s Japanese self-respecting kid, and no one can tell me otherwise. And here's the Hiei meeting! Fortunately they don't have clashing personalities…

 **Space gypsy:** Thank you! I'm so glad that you think that the story fits with the canon that well! I try to make Makoto a believable character, and I don't think either she or Kurama are the type of people who can fall for someone in a short time.

 **Hermetics:** Wow, second time in a row that I get your review as I'm about to update! That's a fancy ability you've got. Glad to hear you liked that chapter, it was literally the one that sparked Makoto's concept, and it's one of those details that make me prefer the manga over the anime. And as always, I'm very happy that you think the characterization is good. The Dark Tournament will start in the next chapter!

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

As much as Kuwabara had played up Hiei's unpleasant streak, Makoto didn't find him so. In fact, their meeting had consisted in him asking who she was, Kurama introducing them, Makoto saying 'nice to meet you' and Hiei ending the conversation with a noncommittal grunt.

Makoto didn't think it was a bad start.

She walked the perimeter for a few hours while they trained, but Hiei's assessment had been right. Hikers followed the trails and didn't go this deep into the woods, not to mention that at this time in the year there weren't many of them.

She went back to the clearing where the others were, leaping from tree to tree instead of walking. When they came into view, Kurama appeared to be in the middle of an explanation and Kuwabara was concentrating his reiki in his hand, but whatever he was trying to form, it didn't have a defined shape.

Hiei sat against the trunk of a nearby tree, relaxed at first sight, but upon closer inspection, his eyes were fixed on the pair in front of him. Makoto jumped to that tree and sat on a low branch, joining in his silent contemplation.

She had determined a few things about Hiei upon meeting him: that he was a man of few words, that he reciprocated Kuwabara's disdain for him, that he seemed to respect Kurama, and that there was a girl.

Makoto couldn't know who she was, but she had seen her as soon as she had set eyes on Hiei. She was dressed in a blue kimono with a darker obi, and her eyes were red and big, much like his. The flash had come to her with a distinct air of surprise mixed with nostalgia. It wouldn't have stood out as much in her mind without that sort of imprint. If she had to put it in words, it was the feeling one would have upon reencountering somebody unexpectedly.

Kuwabara shaped his energy into a sword and tried to do something else with it, but it didn't budge. Kurama kept giving him instructions, and the boy looked so overwhelmed that it would be a wonder if they got anywhere that day.

All the while, Hiei stared silently. Makoto thought that someone who really didn't care, at all, wouldn't be wasting his time like this, but she could understand the necessity to appear detached, given that he was a renowned criminal.

Even with that last bit of information at her disposal, Makoto decided that it was safe to tell him what she knew. The worst that could happen was that he'd never talk to her, and even in that case there wouldn't be much of a difference.

"You will see her again," she said, softly enough that the others wouldn't hear as long as they weren't paying attention.

Hiei didn't move, but he glared at her. "What are you talking about?"

"The girl with the turquoise hair and the red eyes. You will meet again."

Surprise crossed Hiei's face only for a moment before going back to stone. His full attention was now on her. "Kurama told me about you. Can you really see the future?"

She wondered what, exactly, Hiei had been told. "That is a huge simplification, but you could call it that."

Hiei didn't look impressed at all with that answer, and right away Makoto had the feeling that something was probing inside her mind, and the source of the intrusion was the man sitting below her and staring directly at her face.

"Hiei!" Kurama called with disapproval from the middle of the clear.

Hiei's energy subsided, and as his attention shifted from Makoto to his friend, the feeling inside her head went away. He appeared to be completely nonplussed by Kurama's reproving look.

"Just making sure that she wasn't a fraud." And he put his hands behind his head, leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes.

Kurama looked at Makoto, and she only gave him a small shrug.

All in all, it was decent for a first meeting.

—

It was a short, inconsequential conversation on Thursday morning after they daily race to the park's fountain.

"My mother wants to know if you'd like to come for lunch this Saturday," he said casually, as if he hadn't just made a two-hundred meters sprint.

The look Makoto gave him would have made a lesser man back away a few steps. "I think you and your mother are trying to dispose of me very unsubtly."

"Have you been given any more letters?"

"No."

"Ah, then you may be a threat yet."

She splashed water from the fountain on her face and hid behind her hands. Her voice came out muffled. "I am dead. Dead and buried."

"Does that mean you are coming?"

"My life is over."

"I'll take that as a confirmation."

—

That afternoon Makoto saw, for the first time, Kurama's power.

She had just come within sight of the clearing, after making her rounds, when the forest awoke.

She paused on a branch of a tall tree as a surge of energy coming from ahead hit her and appeared to rise the wood under her shoes.

As the energy flared, Kurama took out a rose from his hair ( _how?_ ), and in less than the blink of an eye, it transformed into a green, thorned whip.

Makoto placed a hand on the trunk of the tree, and she could feel it, subtly, but it seemed to be reacting to Kurama's energy, same as the other trees around, the moss, even the grass below. It felt as if all the plants in the vicinity were trying to draw closer to him.

She got goosebumps all over her body. She had heard about demons that could conjure and control ice, fire, wind; she knew a person with poisonous claws, another one that could grow scythes on his arms, but she had never seen a power like this. What stood out to her was that, while most powers were meant for destruction, Kurama's were the opposite. She felt as if she could now hear the breathing of the plants if she listened closely.

The energy ebbed away as he wasn't actively using it, but Makoto could sense the undercurrent around her, in every living plant, as if she were being watched by the very leaves of the trees, and while it made her on edge, she found it absolutely breathtaking. It was as if the entire forest had transformed before her and had turned into the surroundings of Master Genkai's temple.

Kurama launched into an explanation about how to maintain a good grip and infuse energy into a weapon, and Makoto found herself unable to pay any attention to it instead of the quiet whisper of the trees, soothing, watchful, alive.

—

Fumiko _roared_ with laughter. "You're telling me you've been invited to Mi— _mmphh!_ " She didn't stop laughing even after Makoto forcibly covered her mouth.

She had waited until they were outside of the school before breaking the news to her, because damage control was something you had to take into account when dealing with Fumiko, and no amount of pleas for discretion would have stopped the tears on her face and the entire school from knowing that Shuuichi Minamino's mother had invited Makoto for lunch.

The few other students on the street only gave them weird glances, but they were far enough not to have heard what have prompted Fumiko's breakdown, and taking into account who was laughing and who she was laughing at, nobody went to ask.

Makoto removed the hand when her friend had calmed down a little, and it revealed a grin that would have put a Cheshire cat to shame. She felt something sink in the pit of her stomach. Telling Fumiko had been a mistake she'd regret for months, probably.

"You're dead meat if they find out."

"I know," she said with determination. "And that is why I need you not to tell anybody."

Fumiko stretched her arms wide, schoolbag hanging dangerously from a wrist that Makoto had to duck so it didn't hit her head. "I'll be silent as the grave. Good friends can keep secrets, right?"

She was still grinning and it made Makoto uneasy. "Fumi…"

She pouted. "You're no fun."

"My life is in danger, here."

Fumiko snorted. " _You_ are a danger, Mako. It's a good thing for all of us that you're the good kind of demon."

Makoto looked at Fumiko strangely. She had never said anything like that. "There are no 'good' or 'bad' demons, Fumi. There are individual persons, just like humans."

Fumiko didn't reply immediately, and Makoto regarded this strange occurrence with a mixture of anticipation and worry. She must have been thinking about the incidents at the abandoned building and Sarayashiki High, and her next question confirmed her supposition.

"That girl the day of the invisible bugs of doom—Botan, was it? She could see them. Is she a human or a person?"

Most people took a look at Fumiko and weren't impressed. Short-short skirt, bleached hair, enough make-up on her face that you could sink the tip of your finger in it, a short fuse, loud, with questionable manners and no respect for authority. And so, they ignored that she was also pretty perceptive.

"A person," Makoto admitted.

"But I could see her. And Keiko could, too."

"She's a Spirit World employee. They use fake bodies when they need to interact with the living."

"So she isn't a demon?"

"No. She's Death."

"Death," she repeated, question implied.

Makoto nodded. "A shinigami."

"But aren't those meant to pick up souls?"

"Usually. But she's in an investigation team of sorts. I don't think she does much soul collecting nowadays."

Fumiko seemed to be satisfied with the reply, because she didn't make any more questions about it, but she kept thinking for the next few minutes.

It was making Makoto nervous. "Spit it out, Fumi."

"What is Minamino?"

Makoto wished she hadn't prompted her to ask. She didn't feel comfortable divulging info about him. It was supposed to be his secret, not hers. And yet, this was Fumiko. She deserved to know after being pulled into that mess.

"A person," she said, and she left it at that.

She knew Fumiko would understand.

"You've been meeting him every afternoon for a week, haven't you?"

Makoto's eyes went wide as plates, but she waited silently for an elaboration.

"I came to see you home a couple of days, but your mother told me you were in the library. You weren't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I went there, duh. I've been studying, too."

Makoto looked away, feeling guilty.

"You've been acting weird since you started talking to him. Did he get you into something dangerous?"

There was an implicit menace in Fumiko's words, and while Makoto appreciated her concern, she didn't want her to worry, so she did the next best thing she could and made an attempt at humor with mixed results. "Are you jealous?"

"What—! Oh," A devilish smile appeared on Fumiko's face, "is that how you wanna play it? Could it be that you _do_ like Minamino?"

"…You do not know the extent of the outrageousness you just said, and it is a lucky thing you don't."

Over a thousand years. A sharp, refined, controlled aura that felt equally dangerous and fascinating. Eerie.

"Normal girls would say 'no' and flush," Fumiko complained.

"No one involved in this is normal by any stretch of the imagination."

Fumiko laughed and threw an arm around Makoto's shoulders. "Just be careful, okay? I can't save you from magic and spirit shit if you get in too deep."

Makoto smiled. "Don't worry. That is my specialty. You just keep on hitting things you can see."

Fumiko grinned, looking once more at ease.

—

"This is useless," Hiei declared. "Kurama, you take care of this idiot if you want to, I won't waste any more time on him."

"Who the hell do you think you are to—"

"Kuwabara, calm down. Leave Hiei alone and practice with me."

The last half hour had been spent training Kuwabara in hand to hand combat, which, when put into practice, had devolved into the former chasing Hiei all over the clearing and failing to get a single hit in.

Makoto was growing a little concerned about Kurama and even Hiei, short acquaintance notwithstanding. They had spent the better part of the week on Kuwabara's training and very little on the practice they needed themselves. Maybe Hiei was able to train on his own, since he could move around freely, but Makoto knew for a fact that Kurama had no such luxury while he managed his human identity. He had school and his mother to worry about.

Having all this in mind and adding it to the fact that not a single hiker had come close to their position since they were using the clearing, she found herself making what she considered an uncharacteristically generous offer and said, "Kurama, you should focus on your own training too. I can take over."

Two heads turned to her, surprised. The third was Hiei's, but his expression was as undecipherable as ever.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Kurama asked, but he didn't seem averse to the suggestion.

"I suspect moss will start growing on me if I stay any longer on this tree."

He smiled a little. "Feel free," Kurama said, stepping aside.

No sooner than Makoto had jumped down, Kuwabara exclaimed, "Stop right there! What am I supposed to do?"

"Spar with me. You don't need them for this sort of exercise."

"No way!"

Now three heads _did_ turn in mild surprise towards Kuwabara.

"I can't hit a girl!" He said, horrified.

Makoto couldn't see what sort of faces Kurama and Hiei were making at Kuwabara, but she just stared at him, because in her experience that made people more uncomfortable than straight up disapproval.

"Of course you can," Hiei said.

"Not everybody is like you!"

"Kuwabara," Kurama interrupted before an argument could escalate again, "are you aware that there will be women competing in the tournament? What will you do if you need to fight one?"

Kuwabara looked like he had just swallowed a sea urchin. "We don't know if I'll have to!"

Makoto walked up to him, unnerving stare fixed on Kuwabara mercilessly. "Precisely. Which is why you need to prepare for anything."

Hiei clucked his tongue in irritation. "I don't know how the women of this world are, but in ours they don't stay locked up at home, oaf."

Kurama intervened to defuse the situation before an argument could begin. "Hiei is right, Kuwabara. It would be foolish to assume that you will only fight male opponents."

Makoto kept staring, trying not to take Kuwabara's chivalry as a personal affront and remain indifferent. She was sure that he meant well. Misguidedly, offensively well.

He gulped, cornered, and took two steps back from Makoto. "Alright! But I want you to know that I'm doing this against my will!"

"You have already made that point clear," Kurama said tiredly.

Makoto's hope that Kurama and Hiei could spend their time as they saw fit vanished after Kuwabara's little tantrum. Both were watching to see what would happen.

It still took him a good minute to steel himself and find the will to fight. "HERE I GO!" Kuwabara cried, raised a fist, and rather than running, he stumbled forward.

Makoto dodged at a snail's pace with a sidestep, and he hit nothing.

It was deathly quiet in the clearing as Kuwabara gathered himself. He looked at the other two for a moment, feeling silent judgement firing at him from every angle.

"Here," Makoto snapped. "Do not take your eyes off your opponent."

Kuwabara quickly straightened himself to face her. "O-okay!"

"Try again."

The same happened. Makoto was growing more and more irritated. "Are you this slow or are you trying not to hit me?"

"He's slow," Hiei pointed out and Kuwabara called him a few names that Hiei had likely never heard even in the deepest recesses of his world.

It was a testament to Kurama's inner restraint that he was still able to sound as calm as ever. "Kuwabara, stop slowing down intentionally or we won't get anywhere."

Kuwabara was sweating bullets, and not from physical exertion. "But—!"

"If you do not take this seriously, I will hit you until you do," Makoto warned, patience gone at this point. She shouldn't have offered if this was going to waste more time than the alternative.

At the threat, he found his composure once more. "Right." He cleared his throat. "This one is for real!" And indeed, this time it looked like he was taking it seriously, running at her with purpose and his arm ready.

Makoto moved a leg back for stability and prepared to take the punch with her hands to gauge his strength. But right when she placed them in front of her and Kuwabara was about to make contact, he came to an abrupt halt.

"Why aren't you trying to dodge?!" He exclaimed, drawing back enough to look at her from a safe distance. "I almost hit you!"

That was the last straw. Another kind of person would have yelled at him, or ranted her head off, or quit in frustration, but talking had proved to be useless so far, and Makoto wasn't beyond resorting to expedient solutions to get a point across. She closed the distance between the two again, face expressionless as, without any kind of notice, her right foot connected with Kuwabara's crotch.

He curled up and fell to the ground with a screech, and she could have sworn that she saw the other two flinch from the corner of her eye.

"I don't appreciate your condescension," she said curtly, words more venomous than her face would indicate. "Stop wasting my time and get up or next time I'll hit hard."

Kurama was quick to step up and put an arm in front of Makoto to keep her away from Kuwabara. "That's all right, Makoto, I think I should take over."

"No, let her, I want to see where this goes," Hiei said.

Kurama had the air of a newbie elementary school teacher trying to keep control of a particularly unruly class. "Hiei, this isn't funny. Kuwabara needs to—"

"It's okay, Kurama." Kuwabara had managed to get up and place a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You are right, this is something I need to get over. I will try again."

Makoto relaxed at his change of heart and let some more space between them to allow him to prepare. Getting away from Kurama was a plus. After his display of power the other day, the last thing she would have wanted was to annoy him in the smack dab middle of a forest.

"Are you sure?" He asked Kuwabara.

"Kurama, don't coddle him. He'll get what he has coming if he doesn't take it seriously."

It was plain in Kurama's face that that was precisely what he was trying to avoid, because a recklessly gallant Kuwabara was by all accounts better than an incapacitated one, but Makoto had to silently agree with Hiei. A kick in the groin would be the least of Kuwabara's concerns if he ever had to face off against a woman.

Still, she was tired of wasting her time and everybody else's. She was far from noble enough to fight for a lost cause. "Last chance," Makoto said.

"Don't worry. I've got it this time!"

"Less talk, more action," Hiei nagged.

Kurama backed away from them, resigned to intervene only if Kuwabara got another blow to his nether regions.

"Get ready!"

Makoto got into position once again, and Kuwabara ran at her with real intent. She stopped his punch with her hands, and she was pleased to see that she would have stumbled backwards had she not been concentrating her energy on her feet to keep herself steady. Makoto pushed aside Kuwabara's arm with her left hand, and got ready to catch the second punch with her right.

When the hit came, it was much weaker than the first, and at first she thought it was because he hadn't used his dominant hand. She jumped back and waited for him to come again at her. His movements were untrained but forceful, the sort that you'd expect from somebody who had learned to fight on brawls instead of through a master. He rushed at her and threw another punch.

He was on the slow side and favored his upper body too much. It made him predictable. He'd have to work on that.

Makoto caught his right punch with her left hand, and when it hit much weaker than the last time, she realized that something was wrong. She didn't let it go, and when Kuwabara tried with his other arm, she stopped it with her free hand, barely needing to cushion the impact with her energy.

She stared at his hands curiously before she let them go. "Kuwabara," she asked, "could you punch the air a few times?"

"Huh? Sure."

At this point, Kurama had approached them again, and was staring at Kuwabara with a thoughtful expression. Makoto supposed that he had suspicions about what was wrong, as well.

Kuwabara punched six times, and as the chain of blows progressed and Makoto concentrated only in his hands, she saw as the reiki that infused them got gradually weaker, until the last punches barely contained any.

That was why she had been able to stop them so easily. She wasn't strong enough to just brush off a good hit if it was properly charged, but they hadn't been after the first.

"You are losing steam as you go," Kurama pointed out. "Each successive punch is weaker than the last."

Kuwabara glanced at his hands, surprised, and said, "But I'm putting as much strength in every one!"

"It's your reiki that is faltering." Kurama explained. "Physical strength won't mean anything if you don't back it up with it. You need to use it all the time."

"It's the basic of the basics," Hiei said disdainfully from his spot.

Kuwabara's temper rose immediately. "Yeah? Come here and I'll show you the basic of my—"

"Kuwabara," Kurama warned without much energy.

"It's normal that you cannot do it naturally," Makoto said in a conciliatory attempt. "You have only fought regular humans so far and you have not undergone formal training. You still have time to learn."

"Right. Kuwabara, you should start practicing to keep your energy flow constant, like when you use your Spirit Sword—"

"You two are giving him too much credit," Hiei said, walking to his usual tree to sit down. "He won't last the first round."

Makoto sneaked a glance at Kurama, who had also looked at her for a moment, and when their eyes met she knew they were thinking the same: _This is just the first week. We have six more ahead._

Makoto tried to find something to say, but in the end she only let out a sigh of resignation while Kuwabara's and Hiei's argument went on in the background.

—

Makoto wasn't fully aware of how much her life had spiraled out of control until she found herself sneaking out the school grounds on Saturday to wait for Kurama in some inconspicuous street corner so they weren't seen walking home together.

She'd had to tell her mother that she wouldn't be home for lunch for the second weekend in a row, and after pondering if it she should leave it at that and disappoint her again, or tell her where she was going on the off chance that she would take the news better, she chose the second option. She regretted it right away. Now her mother was convinced that she was dating Kurama, and she insisted that Makoto invited him home sometime, too, because she really wanted to meet him, _'and didn't you say he was the smartest boy at school? Is he cute? He must be a sweet boy if he kept his mother company at the hospital all the time.'_

Of all the adjectives Makoto could think of to describe Kurama, sweet was nearing the bottom of the list, even if most of her classmates would disagree with her assessment. She knew better. Kurama was not—

"Sorry to make you wait," he said from her blind spot and scaring the wits out of her.

—nice.

He smiled. She shot him a veiled glare. His smile might have grown wider at that.

"Shall we go?"

—

After lunch, Makoto sat awkwardly on the living room's coach while Ms. Minamino set up the coffee table for tea. Kurama was boiling water in the kitchen and nobody let Makoto help with anything, so she started fidgeting with the cuffs of the uniform's shirt and looking around.

Kurama's mother had recovered incredibly fast. The fraying edges of her aura had healed seamlessly, and no one could have thought that she had been on the verge of death just weeks ago. A miracle.

Makoto's gaze drifted from the woman to the vase of irises on the coffee table. The purple was so bright and the petals so unblemished that if she hadn't had more faith in Ms. Minamino's decorating decisions, she would have thought they were plastic.

"Do you like the flowers?" The older woman interrupted Makoto's thoughts. "Shuuichi grows them in the garden. They started blooming last week."

"I didn't know irises were a winter flower," Makoto said.

"I didn't know until he planted them, either. He has set up the garden in a way that there is always something in bloom. I leave it to him nowadays – he is much better with plants than I am. Even the flowers he cuts seem to last longer."

"A natural," Makoto remarked conversationally, as she reached for an iris and delicately brushed a petal with two fingers. Faint traces of youki remained in there, preserving the flower as it had been when alive, and Makoto was reminded of the other day in the forest. Had this flower, too, tried to lean on the hand that had cut it?

That thought bothered her more than she cared to admit.

"Sometimes I think he likes plants better than people." Shiori continued. "I've seen him spend hours with a single rose bush since he barely could hold up a pair of pruning scissors." She smiled gently at Makoto, and there was a hint of nostalgia in the way she talked. "Do you know that this is the first time that he's brought a friend home, other than for school projects?"

That seemed hard to believe. "Never before?"

Shiori shook her head. "Of course, I asked him to invite you, but I didn't think he'd accept. I hear from his teachers that he gets along well with everybody at school, but I can never see it."

"I can assure you that he gets more attention than he knows what to do with." Makoto was sure that she wouldn't want to bring her classmates home, either, if she was on the receiving end of that treatment.

She laughed. "That's what he says. But I think he has never had a close friend. I don't think he even pushes people away, but he..." She put the last teacup on the table and sat on an armchair next to Makoto. "He always keeps his distance from others, even me. It was very unusual that he kept talking about you and Yuusuke after I was discharged from the hospital. Your support must have meant a lot to him."

Makoto looked down at her hands shyly, now busy with the hem of her skirt. She had thought about it, about what could Kurama possibly get from their acquaintance, and she had assumed that he appreciated being able to take a break from hiding his identity from everyone else in his daily life. She replied, "I was there by chance. I listened. I didn't do anything noteworthy."

"Maybe that's exactly what he needed. Someone who listened. And you were the one who did."

Slightly taken aback, her gaze flickered to Ms. Minamino. There was a glint of mischievousness in the woman's eyes, and in that moment Makoto could see a striking resemblance between mother and son. She wondered who had rubbed off on the other, or if they had already shared that trait long before becoming family.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't completely honest with you. I tried to get a hold of Yusuke too, but Shuuichi told me that he was out of town." Ms. Minamino confessed. "And as for you, I did want to thank you for the company, just… not the one you kept me. I'm glad that you are Shuuichi's friend, and if it took a hospital admission for it to happen, it is one I don't regret at all."

A knot formed in Makoto's throat at hearing her speak so sincerely, so gratefully for something that hadn't registered for her as remarkable. "I am sure he would rather have never spoken to me than see you so ill, Ms. Minamino."

"And that is where he'd be wrong. One day I'll be gone, and what will happen then?" Her face fell. "I don't want him to be alone. He deserves to spend time with the people he chooses instead of looking after me all the time."

"That only means he's choosing you, too."

"It isn't the same. Children don't choose their parents."

Makoto couldn't tell her how wrong she was. "I do not think he would switch you for another, if given the chance."

Ms. Minamino laughed lightly. The sound was clear, crystalline and radiated the same warmth as her energy did. "Now, forgive me if I'm being nosy, but what do you think of my son?"

Makoto's own mother couldn't be any more different from Kurama's, she found quite amazing that both could put her on the spot like that, with the same subject, from such different angles. But Ms. Minamino was, undeniably, the tougher cookie. After all, it was much easier to deny her mother's nonsense about boyfriends than a genuine request of her opinion of Kurama, by no one less than the woman who raised her. Who he decided to stick with.

Makoto hated lying, and Ms. Minamino deserved better. But she couldn't say all the truth.

"People at school avoid me, but not him. Even if the other students think I am strange. He never complains about my staring, or not looking at him when I talk, or fidgeting all the time," she let go of the hem of her skirt when she realized she was doing it again, but she kept her eyes glued to that spot, "or that I talk too little, that I am too blunt, or that I don't smile." Or that she sometimes stared off into space and saw things she shouldn't, or that, even knowing what she could to do, and that there was a good chance that she'd agree if asked, he had never tried to use her ability for his own interests. That even if he had no practical interest in her power, he hadn't tried to get rid of her for posing a risk to his double identity. So Makoto said, without thinking, surprising herself with her own words, "He is a good friend."

She was staring at her lap silently, waiting for a reply, when a finger softly brushed her chin, prompting her to look up at its owner.

Ms. Minamino was smiling at her with barely contained happiness. "You are such a sweet girl."

Something crashed down inside of her. It was as if the knot Makoto had had to swallow earlier had nested in her stomach, and it was bringing together all her feelings towards Kurama's mother, his perceived self-worth, her own, and all the lies involved in the situation, both direct and by omission, in a messy tangle that she wasn't sure how to handle. How could Kurama? How could he believe that the woman in front of her wouldn't love him with all her heart if she knew the truth; how low did he have to think of himself to be blind to it? How could he stand the guilt of a fifteen-year-old secret?

 _One, two, three._

She was relieved when, very soon, Kurama came out of the kitchen with the teapot, even if there was no question that he must have heard at least a part of their conversation, because it meant that she could postpone the task of untangling all those threads that she hadn't been aware she had been keeping inside until then.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry for the long wait! The convention was amazing, work was an ongoing nightmare the last few days and right now I'm in the middle of my vacation, writing as much as I can. I hope you like this chapter!

Also, if you are curious about the dancing squid mention, Google "ika odori don". Not recommended for easily squicked people. It isn't a food for everybody...

 **Hermetics:** Thanks! I have never thought Hiei has such a short fuse, to be honest. He tends to act at least neutrally with people who don't antagonize him or who show him respect. Then again, everything's a matter of interpretation, so I'm glad that you think that he and Kuwabara are in character.  
There are way too many female badasses in the YYH world for Kurama and Hiei not to acknowledge it. Demons don't seem to make a distinction, and it's something I've always appreciated.  
Yep, that trope bothers me a lot, so I used Fumiko to take a shot at it. Heavy make-up and a lengthy list of exes don't make anybody a worse person. And Shiori is an amazing woman, from what little we know about her. She was alone when raising Kurama, probably spending more time at work than with him, and she still managed to change his outlook on life. I don't think any weak-willed person could have done that.  
I had lots of fun, thank you! I met a lot of lovely people thanks to that cosplay (and the spectacular Mukuro and Botan that I went with). YYH fans are the best.

 **SpaceGypsy:** She can shoot energy in more or less controlled bursts, but she isn't really made for fighting. It was Genkai who taught her to fight, so all her attacks would be variations of the Spirit Wave.

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

March rolled around, and with it, finals and the end of the school year.

Even though Makoto started bringing her school books to study in the forest while she had nothing to do, she had to miss a few days of training to cram before and during exams week, when she couldn't really justify her escapades to her parents.

When the results came out, she found her name in seventh place in the school ranking. It was better than she had expected after wasting so much time, but she was sure her mother would be disappointed that she didn't get better marks after all the effort she had supposedly put into studying. Makoto, on the other hand, was happy with it. She always aimed for that sort of place in the ranking: high enough to be a good grade, low enough to pass unnoticed. Maybe she should try for tenth place next time. She had cut it too close, almost making it into the top five. That was a level of attention that she did not want.

And speaking of unwanted attention, there was Kurama, in the first place, closely followed by Kaito. Makoto pitied anyone who ever had hopes of surpassing those two.

Two more days of school and one last weekend to train before the tournament. Makoto had tried not to think about the date as it approached, but she couldn't ignore it anymore, not when it was so close. Kurama, Kuwabara, Hiei and Yuusuke would be gone next week, she'd stay home while they fought for their lives, and like every other guest team, they'd never come back.

The more time she spent with them, the more it became clear. Little by little a dreadful energy was setting around them, more obvious the closer their trip to the tournament was, and for once, Makoto was at a loss.

When she knew something bad was going to happen to somebody else, she could warn them if she really thought it necessary, but this time was different. There was nothing she could say that they didn't know, and they had no choice but to push forward. She couldn't do anything for them other than hope for the best, and she couldn't bring herself to believe in the best, because what if it didn't happen? How could she live with that?

It had been nice to have more than one friend, for a while.

She didn't even want to think about Ms. Minamino.

She felt like she should say something to Kurama. She could thank him, or say goodbye, and then she might as well shout at the top of her lungs that they would all be dead within a week. The effect would be the same, and she didn't think that would be encouraging at all.

He had told her they would leave on Monday and board a ship that would take them to Hanging Neck Island, so she had until Sunday to find something fitting to say. As for everything else, she had to remind herself that there was no sense in worrying about things she couldn't control. She thought she had learned that lesson long ago.

Looking at the group of students standing before the board with the grades, she saw the swarm that had gathered around Kurama to congratulate him (and the scolding some of them would have to endure; Makoto did not envy them), and with a pang of jealousy she started to walk away, because _she_ had more right to be spending those last few moments of peace with him than any of them.

She couldn't let the grim thoughts fester for long, though, because she suddenly found herself being tackled-slash-violently hugged from behind, and it didn't take a genius to know who the perpetrator was.

"Did you see my grades!?" Fumiko said next to Makoto's ear, assaulting not only her back but her eardrums.

"No."

Makoto looked at the panels with the third year's list, standing on her toes to see above the group that clustered around it.

Fumiko pointed at the end of the first panel. "Look, there!"

"What. _What._ "

"Geez, you could say 'Fumi, you rule!' or something."

"How on Earth did you make it into the top thirty?"

"I told you, I was studying! I really was!"

"And I really did not expect you were. My apologies."

"You're an awful friend."

"Let me go," She whined, tugging on Fumi's sleeve with only two fingers.

"No." And she hugged her tighter. "This is your penance for not believing in me."

Makoto reached out behind her with a hand and patted Fumiko's head. "I have always believed in you. You are real."

 _There was a bowl of sea urchin and crab and salmon roe on rice and wow, and a plate with a dancing squid, and she ordered one too because everybody at the table wanted to try it too._

Makoto blinked several times to will the dancing squid away. Right. Fumi was going on a trip.

"And you're so annoying." She sighed, and tried again when Makoto didn't reply. "Mako?"

"Sorry. I took a trip to Hokkaido and came back."

Fumiko's mood recovered quickly. "Does that mean dad will let me go? He promised that I could go with the club girls if I made it to the upper half of the rankings."

"I remember. Looks like you get want you want."

"And who would've thought I would, huh?" Fumiko laughed. "Sapporo, here I go!"

"Lucky you. I am boiling with envy," Makoto said with no emotion whatsoever. But it was true that she would have liked to go.

"No luck; one hundred percent effort!" She let go of Makoto with one arm to punch upwards. "I promise to stuff myself with crab in your honor."

"Bring me something tasty."

"I will!"

"And careful with the dancing squids."

"I—what?"

—

On Saturday, with Fumiko all pumped up and already on a bus with her companions, Makoto went to the train station at the same time as every other weekend, but Kurama wasn't there yet. She had a nagging suspicion on the back of her mind, but she decided to ignore it. Pleased to have arrived before him once and for all, she took a seat inside the station and waited.

And waited. And waited.

Three trains passed, and there was still no sign of Kurama.

The nagging suspicion became more bothersome, but she still waited.

After five trains, Makoto rose from the chair and headed for the nearest payphone. She searched in her bag for her phonebook, found his number, and dialed.

The voice on the other side confirmed her suspicions. "Hello?"

"Good morning, Ms. Minamino. I'm Makoto," she said, feeling her stomach sink. "I am sorry to bother you this early – could I speak to Shuuichi?"

"Don't tell me he didn't say anything to you! He had to leave this morning. His friends advanced the departure time for their trip, and they barely gave him any notice. But he told me he would call you."

"I see," Makoto said, deflated.

"He mustn't have wanted to bother you so early in the morning," she excused him, though Makoto could sense a bit of hesitation in her tone. "He will call you later, I'm sure of it."

"Yes, of course," Makoto replied, voice flat. "Thank you so much, Ms. Minamino."

"It's no problem, dear. Take care."

Makoto spaced out for a while after hanging the phone. It wasn't often that she was blindsided like this, or at least it hadn't been for most of her life, but, admittedly, in light of recent events, she should stop being so surprised of being surprised.

She was angry. Which was probably fair, considering that she had been lied to and stood up. And therein laid the reason for the foreign sensation creeping up inside her, because Makoto got annoyed with people, and could get angry if that annoyance escalated, but she didn't take things personally. Now, she felt deeply offended by Kurama's actions.

She was also worried and maybe a little sad, but those two feelings took a backseat in favor of the first one.

Makoto was a practical person, if not very driven to action, so it was telling of her mental state that, torn between wasting time basking in the offense or being proactive, going back home to lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling seemed an option worth considering.

Instead, she decided to go to the Kuwabaras' and try to talk to Shizuru. She had only seen her while Yuusuke was unconscious, but Makoto didn't know where to find anybody else that may have known something about the guys.

As it turned out, she wasn't the only one who had had that idea.

When she rang the doorbell, Shizuru opened with a coffee cup in one hand, a cigarette in her mouth, and no hint of surprise at Makoto's presence. "I was waiting for you. You got here last."

Makoto felt a comfy sort of kinship with the girl.

Shizuru led her into the living room, asked, "Coffee?" and disappeared from the room, leaving Makoto alone with Keiko and an older woman that she had never seen before.

"Huh? Who are you?" The woman asked. She was reclining on the couch with an arm over the back and drinking from a can that was definitely not coffee. The way she moved was familiar, but Makoto couldn't tell who it reminded her of.

Keiko's surprise was plain in her face. "Makoto? What are you doing here?" Then she said to the other woman, "She's one of the girls who helped Botan and I during the drug dealers' case."

"Oh, is she?"

"She's Atsuko, Yuusuke's mother," Keiko offered to Makoto.

"And we're here trying to find my good-for-nothing of a son," Atsuko said with disdain. "He was training in the mountains, or so he said, but we can't get a hold of him. Got any ideas?"

Makoto did have ideas, but none that she could say in front of these two. She had been looking just for Shizuru. She did not want to be in that living room.

The aforementioned woman reappeared in the living room, put a mug in Makoto's hands and said, "Don't stand there, have a seat," as she did exactly that.

Makoto sat down and found herself under the formidable stare of the three women in the room.

"Well? Do you know anything?"

Makoto really didn't like lying.

"I may know where they are, but we cannot contact them. I came to ask Shizuru if her brother had told her anything, actually."

"Nothing at all. The big idiot just stepped out this morning with a bag strapped to his back and said 'be back in a week!'" She sighed quietly. "I can tell he's up to something dangerous, though."

"Do you think he's still helping Yuusuke with the detective agency's cases?" Keiko asked.

Shizuru and Makoto exchanged a concerned look. Makoto was regretting very much ever setting a foot in that house. "That may be so, yes."

Keiko huffed. "How could he do this after promising me that he'd warn me? I'm going to give him an earful when I catch him."

But she was never going to; no one was going to come back. And none of them had explained anything to their families. What an inconsiderate bunch of idiots.

"And what about that girl who works with him?" Atsuko suggested.

"Botan?" Keiko thought for a bit. "She mentioned that she works undercover in the city as a fortune teller, but I don't know where to find her."

"But she should know what's up, right?" Atsuko insisted. "Let's find her and get our answers."

Makoto was surprised of how quick they were thinking given the amount of misinformation they had.

"Well, then we know what we've got to do," Shizuru said. "Let's go out and comb the city. I'll drag Kazuma home by the ear."

"Sounds good to me," Keiko said.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Atsuko exclaimed, "You're coming too, right, Mako?"

Everything was moving too fast for Makoto. In the middle of the shuffle of chairs and clinking of drinks, she had enough sense to stop them. "Wait a moment. Do you plan to search the entire city by ourselves?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Shizuru asked, and added in jest, "If you can summon a street gang to help, be my guest."

For a brief moment, Makoto stared at Shizuru in wonder.

"…What is it?"

"I think I can," Makoto admitted.

"Hey, me too!" Atsuko jumped at the opportunity. "Shizuru, can I make a call?"

Shizuru, slightly at a loss before the sudden change of circumstances, nodded.

"I will go find my contact," Makoto said. "Someone should stay here. I'll tell them to call if they find her."

Shizuru looked at her still burning cigarette, sat down, and took her coffee mug again. "That's all right. I suppose I'll stay."

—

Makoto liked asking for favors about as much as lying.

She had only needed to exchange a glance with the mock security guards at the entrance of the bar. She was one of them, so she was allowed to pass.

The steps to the establishment on the basement were so sticky that she was sure that the soles of her shoes were the cleanest thing they had touched in years. She certainly hadn't been in the place before, though she had been invited several times.

As soon as she set foot inside the bar, somebody hooted and the greetings started to pour out.

"Woah, look who's here!"

"Long time no see, girl!"

"Sit with us!"

Though not everybody looked happy to see her. Some appeared as uncomfortable with her presence as she was to be there.

Makoto walked to the table that was calling her. Yuusuke's and Kuwabara's lookalikes were there, along with a few others. She decided to name them Yosuke and Kazama in her head.

"Have a drink," Kazama said, "no one's gonna ID you."

"No, thank you." She replied dispassionately. "I am here on business."

A few grins were dropped in exchange for slack jaws.

"What do you want?" Another asked, suspicious. Word of her association with Kurama had surely spread, and everybody knew that Kurama associated with the Spirit Detective.

"I am trying to track down Urameshi," she said. She had no reason to be roundabout.

The guy that had talked last exploded. "We want nothing to do with that guy! 'Sides, that pretty classmate of yours fucked us last time. We aren't getting in their way again."

There was a chorus of general agreement in the bar.

"I do not want you to go near Urameshi or any of those guys." Makoto said when the chatter died down a little. "I need you to find a girl as fast as possible."

"A… girl? Is she a demon?"

"A Spirit World worker and mostly inoffensive." Not to all of them, though. "Just locating her will be enough."

"And how do we know that those bastards won't come after us?"

"They are out of town. You are free to operate."

There was a lull in the conversation. "Doesn't sound too bad," Yosuke said.

But another asked, "And what's in it for us?"

Makoto didn't want to owe these people anything, but she had to negotiate. "Detailed info on the Spirit Detective's movements. You will never have to cross paths with him again."

Everybody in the bar started to talk again.

"You'll keep track of him? All the time?"

"Correct."

A few exchanged glances, unsure. Kazama said, "You sure you're up to that? It's the Spirit World you're messing with."

"As long as that girl is found today, I am."

"Well," Yosuke grinned, "looks like we have a job, guys. We alright with finding a girl?"

A few laughed. Makoto tried to stay cool. They were beneath her. Means to an end. She shouldn't mind them.

"Who are we looking for, exactly?"

"A girl about as tall as me, late teens, with blue hair and pink eyes. I hear she makes a living as a street fortune-teller."

"Huh. Spirit World salaries must have plummeted."

Makoto shrugged. "They don't get paid in yen, that is for certain."

"I think I've seen a girl like that a few times," one of the guys said. "Near the shopping district."

Two beside him agreed.

"Okay," Yosuke said. "We find you that girl, and you'll tail Urameshi for us until he kicks the bucket."

"That's what I said. Stop dallying, please. Every second counts."

"Don't get nervous. You'll have her before the evening."

"Wait!" Someone in the back said. He looked young, and Makoto didn't remember seeing his face before, even on passing. He must have been new. "Aren't you the girl that can see the future?"

Makoto stared into his eyes with the full intention of spooking him. He looked away right away. "That is a huge oversimplification, but—"

"Give us a reading!" Another said.

"Yeah!"

"Tell us our future and we'll deliver the girl to your doorstep!"

Makoto's perfect pokerface cracked and turned into disbelief. "How many times do I have to tell you that it doesn't work like that?!"

"Come on, just a tiny one!"

"Help a fellow half-demon out!"

"You scratch our back, we scratch yours."

"You," she said, rising her voice a bit, "find the girl first, and when I am done with this issue I will come here and give everybody a… reading. Satisfied?"

"Hard negotiator," one of the guys on the table near hair joked and patted her on the back. Her aura spiked at the touch and he retreated his hand the instant she turned to glare at him.

By virtue of Master Genkai's spartan training, Makoto was more powerful than any of the people currently in the bar, which didn't mean that she could or wanted to take on them at the same time, but it meant that she could intimidate them and remind them that, if she had entered the place alone to ask something of them, it was because she was sure that she would walk out unharmed.

None of them had ever seen her fight, and she hoped they never would, but they were smart enough to realize that at least they'd be in trouble with human authorities if she meant business.

"Dude, don't," Kazama hissed at the other guy in a hurry, trying to diffuse the situation, then lifted his hands in a peace gesture and said to Makoto, "We're good."

"Thank you." She took out a slip of paper from her pocket and handed it to Kazama. "Call this number when you find her."

"At your service, girl."

—

When the guys said they'd deliver Botan to her doorstep, Makoto didn't think they'd be so literal, but there she was, at one sharp, crying out for help, with tears in the corner of her eyes as she was dragged by Kazama and Yosuke by her arms to Kuwabara's home. They placed her on the doormat with self-satisfied grins and waved Makoto and Shizuru goodbye.

"Well," Shizuru blew a puff of smoke and said with that unnerving calm of hers, "let's get inside. Atsuko and Keiko will be here in a minute."

"Waaaait!" Botan's arms shot up. "Wh-what do you want with me? I haven't done anything! I don't know anything about the tournament! I don't know what's going on there!"

"…Tournament?" Shizuru asked, and Botan's hands flew to cover her mouth.

At least none of the guys would be able to blame her for outing them, Makoto thought.

—

"Let me get this straight," Shizuru said, took one last drag of her third cigarette and put it out on the coffee table's ashtray. "You are saying that my stupid brother and Yuusuke have become renowned demon-hunters after beating up the Four Saint Beasts of legend and now they have been dragged to an underground competition staged by crime lords so they can die a humiliating death in a stadium full of blood-thirsty demons."

Botan sat on the couch opposite to Shizuru, flanked by Keiko and Atsuko to prevent possible escape attempts. She gulped. "Y-yes."

Atsuko slammed her beer on the table, making Botan yelp, got up and declared, "I'm going to kill my son!"

"Botan," Shizuru said, eerily calm, but there was no mistake that she was fuming inside. "Where are they now?"

"O-o-on their way to Hanging Neck Island."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Keiko got up too. "We're going there, and we're going to drag them home whether they want or not!"

"That's my girl!"

"It's settled," Shizuru said. "How should we get there? Train and boat?"

"I do not think we will be able to get there on our own," Makoto intervened for the first time in the conversation, catching everybody's attention. "Hanging Neck Island should be private property. There will not be any ferries we can board."

"That's right!" Botan agreed with a shaky smile and nodded repeatedly. "You can't make it there on your own! Besides, it's very dangerous for humans!"

"I don't care about humans or demons!" Atsuko retorted, poking Botan with an accusatory finger. "You get us there! Aren't you with the Spirit World?"

"I-I'm just a lowly worker! I don't have that kind of pull!" She was in the brink of tears.

"You don't," Makoto said mercilessly, "but your boss does."

Botan made a panicked noise as Atsuko and Shizuru closed in on her with diabolical grins.

Keiko sat back next to Botan, gave her a wide, unsettling smile, and said, "You will call your boss right now, okay?"

Makoto had met murderous demons far less intimidating than those three.

—

Botan was sent to Koenma and didn't return to the Kuwabaras' until late in the afternoon. By that point the girls were suspecting that they had been played and were proposing ways to make it to the Spirit World themselves to kick down the door and talk to Enma themselves.

Makoto spoke little during the conversation, but she agreed with the general sentiment.

When a very weary-looking Botan knocked on the living room's window to let them know that they should be at the port at seven in the morning the next day, the celebration was cut short by a little problem they hadn't taken into account.

Two people in the room needed parental permission and enough allowance to leave for a week.

—

An hour later, the girls, Botan included, were making their way to Makoto's home after stopping by the Yukimuras' restaurant. It had gone surprisingly well.

"I still can't believe we convinced my parents so easily," Keiko said, very relieved, when they were outside.

"You're a honor student, Keiko." Atsuko said happily. "Why wouldn't they believe you?"

"Because saying that you have to leave for camp less than a day before the fact is a little suspicious, don't you think?"

"Camp for honor students," Shizuru replied. "That makes all the difference. You've been doing great groundwork to be able to lie indiscriminately in the future."

"Shizuru, please don't say it as if it were a good thing."

"Don't worry so much about it, Keiko!" Atsuko said. "If I was your mother I'd have let you go anyway."

Keiko's silence hinted that maybe she didn't think that that was a good thing, either.

"Get ready, team," Makoto warned when her home came into view. "Do we all know what we are going to say?"

Makoto would have liked to deal with this all by herself, but she knew that her parents weren't going to let her leave with people they didn't know.

"We met at the library's study group," Keiko said at once.

"Botan and I are volunteers," Shizuru said.

"And I got us last minute super-cheap tickets for a trip…" Botan added.

"And I'm the responsible adult that's going to take care of you!" Atsuko said, very proud of herself. She had been left out of the equation when Keiko presented her case to her parents, because as well-meaning as she was, they knew her too well to leave their daughter in her hands. Not in Makoto's case.

Makoto unlocked her house's door with an impending sense of doom that had nothing to do with her powers.

"I'm home," she called as she went in, and the others followed. "I brought people with me!"

She hadn't finished the last sentence when something akin to a stampede coming from both floors resounded throughout the house, and in a matter of seconds her dad appeared on top of the stairs, dragging the vacuum cleaner with him, and her mother showed up on the bathroom door with a dripping mop.

They stared at the group for a few astonished seconds, and the group stared back.

Makoto was afraid to speak.

" _OH. MY. GOD._ " Her mother dropped the mop and a huge grin grew on her face. " _You have friends!_ "

Makoto was pretty sure that this moment would haunt her for the rest of her life.

"You're staying for dinner, right?" She continued, beaming with happiness. "Hideki, I need you to go to the conbini!"

Behind Makoto, Atsuko and Shizuru were barely containing their laughter. She could almost feel the vibrations in the air. Why her?

"That won't be necessary, Miss Kodama," Keiko said, but Makoto's mother was having none of it.

"Oh, no, now that you're here I won't be shoving you out so fast! I want you to tell me exactly how you know Mako!"

Makoto tried because she had to, not because she had any illusions that it would work. "Mom, we have only come to ask if—"

"Where's your sense of hospitality, Mako?" She placed a hand on her hips and pointed at a door to her right. "Show them to the living room while I get the tea ready."

"…Yes, mom."

—

Makoto had honestly thought that her parents would be tougher to convince, but she had underestimated how much they wanted her to have friends.

It was kind of offensive when she thought about it. She had Doraemon and Fumi and that traitor Kurama, _kind of_. At any rate, Doraemon and Fumi were enough. She didn't need more. She didn't understand why they thought she did.

When the rest of the girls were released from her parent's grip, Makoto shut herself in her room to pack her bag. She'd need to take a night bus to the next city, since the train wouldn't get them to the port by the time they needed to be there.

She didn't try to sleep. She knew she wouldn't be able to.

Before dawn, she was saying goodbye to her sleepy parents and running to the bus stop faster than she should have for security reasons. The others, except Botan, got on the bus three stops later, since Makoto was the one who lived farther away. Keiko sat next to her, so Makoto took the opportunity of having the more considerate one of the group beside her to sleep.

 _A slash. Another. Cut, blood, dripping down skin; cold fury, unrestrained killing intent, bursting in—what?—red?—flowers of blood—a corpse—_

Makoto jolted awake feeling nauseous.

"Are you okay?" She heard Keiko say, her face a blur so close, and then she touched lightly Makoto's arm.

 _Sad, unable to do anything but watch how he dies—get up, Yuusuke—it can't be, it can't be itcan'tbeitcan'tbeit'sajustnightmare—_

"Makoto!"

The vision couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but when she came back to her senses, she saw Shizuru had walked up to them and was holding the hand Keiko had placed on Makoto's arm.

Shizuru smiled. "Better?"

Makoto nodded, still a little too out of it to properly answer. She made herself small in her seat.

"Try not to touch her when she's not fully conscious, Keiko," Shizuru told her gently, releasing her hand.

"I'm sorry," she said. It was a good thing that there weren't many other passengers at that hour. "I didn't know… Um…"

"Don't worry. It is me who should have been more careful." Makoto rubbed her eyes, trying to get the fog away. Had she just seen Keiko's future? She hoped not, but it was what it looked like.

She felt as if the vision was sticking to her skin, dirty, like a leech, draining her of all good feelings and leaving her empty with despair. She leaned the side of her head against the window and rubbed her forehead.

"Sooo, what was all that about?" Atsuko asked from her seat.

Makoto had figured that she'd have to tell them that she wasn't human sooner than later, but she would have liked to do it in another situation. She'd keep what she had seen to herself, though. There was no point in worrying them.

—

"Come here, Keiko! The view is amazing!"

Makoto didn't understand when her life had gone so wrong that she was now sitting in a luxury ferry next to one of the rulers of the Spirit World. His assistant ogre was with the girls, watching the early morning sun shine above the sea. Meanwhile, Makoto looked at them from her seat, grasping her hands tightly on her lap.

The view was certainly pretty. Makoto was torn between going with Atsuko or staying in her seat. She didn't know next to whom she would feel more out of place. And she didn't want to be near Keiko, not in that moment. She felt sick just remembering what she had seen in the bus.

Koenma started speaking to her, something she could have done without, but when one was trying to avoid so many things at once, it was only natural to end up tripping over one of them. "You are Makoto Kodama, right?"

Makoto's hummed as a reply as her eyes fell to the sleeves of her beige coat.

Koenma sighed through his nose. "They look so happy now that they don't know what they are getting into, but this tournament is no place for humans. You should have told them to stay at home."

"They would not have listened."

"Well, I suppose I can't complain, since it was my incompetent employee who said too much," he said lightly.

Makoto didn't say anything. She should have gone with Atsuko. Even if half of the ship's passengers were staring at her every time she spoke. Even if she couldn't look at Keiko in the eye.

"Why are you so tense?"

Makoto looked at Koenma from the corner of her eye and said, coldly, "Surely you understand that this in an uncomfortable situation for me."

"I have read your file. As far as we know, you have lived peacefully among humans all your life. You have nothing to fear from the Spirit World."

Anger started bubbling inside of her. A file. That's what they all were to the people in the Spirit World. Her hands tightened, leaving white imprints on the skin. "A privilege that many like me do not have, I am sure."

"Humans are defenseless when people with demon blood abuse their power. Those who do it must be—"

"Asked their motives, maybe? We are not mindless beasts. Has any of you ever wondered why there is such a high percentage of half-demons committing crimes in the Human World?"

Makoto knew she should have bit her tongue as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

Koenma looked taken aback by her words, but he recovered quickly. "We know that many have difficult family circumstances and suffer from integration problems, of course. That doesn't excuse what they do."

"I know that," Makoto said coldly. "But what are you doing to attack the root of the problem? The Spirit World presents itself as the protector of the Human World. Is systematically imprisoning the demons and half-demons who live in it your way to keep it safe? Do only human lives matter to you?"

She knew better than anybody how easy it was to get her way by force dealing with humans. How tempting it was to forget about morals and just do as she pleased. She wasn't any different from them; she simply had things that were too important to lose. Her parents. Her cat. Fumi. Her nana. Master Genkai. But they didn't have those things. They only had others like them.

You could only tell so often to a group of kids that they were bad guys until they believed it. They gathered. They found a sense of community that no one else gave them. A place to belong.

Makoto had grown up disgusted at the thought that she was exactly like them, and that it was only circumstance that had prevented her from going the same way. She saw in them everything she did not want to become.

"You have a fair point," Koenma admitted to Makoto's surprise. "And I admit that a sizeable portion of the Spirit World has humans as the one and only priority, but not everybody agrees on that. I suppose that I could tell you that we have begun looking into this matter very recently."

She turned her head to look him in the face. "You have?"

Koenma nodded. "Since Yuusuke and Kuwabara raided Tarukane's mansion, a few concerning documents regarding a demon trafficking ring have turned up in our archives. Tarukane's investigation has been closed, since he's dead," he didn't sound pleased, "but I am looking personally into the matter."

"I-I see." Makoto wasn't sure what else to say. "I apologize for my rudeness."

A smile escaped Koenma. "We haven't given ourselves a very good press outside of our own world, have we? But getting a wake-up call every now and then is good to remember what we're actually working for. As I said before, you have nothing to fear."

"From you, at least," Makoto said, gesturing towards the sea with her head. A small dot was becoming visible in the distance, the island where the tournament would take place.

"Don't remind me," he huffed. "Let's just hope that Yuusuke and the rest can pull through. They have two experts at cheating death on the team, after all."

Makoto was reminded again of the dream in the bus and what she had seen when she touched Keiko, but didn't mention it out loud. She inspected Koenma's face looking for a hint, but the only thing she saw was worry. If they were going to die, he should know. Their deaths would appear on the Spirit World records, unless Yuusuke's death was still making the wheel of fate malfunction.

Come to think of it, she could ask about that. It affected her directly.

"Was Yuusuke's unlisted death a one off occurrence, or is that still causing ripples in your registers?"

Koenma grimaced. "Don't ask. Every time a mistake like this happens it's a disaster."

"I can somewhat sympathize," Makoto said. Her mind went back to the conversation about determinism she'd had with Kurama. Everything had been so clear-cut before…

She found herself hoping, for the first time, that fate could be truly cheated, and that it hadn't merely decided to settle the score belatedly with Kurama and Yuusuke.


	8. Chapter 8

Hi everybody! It's a Christmas miracle that I've been able to update before January, between work and catching two colds just this month. I hope you are having a good holiday, if you celebrate it or are on winter break, and if you don't, I hope you are having doubly good days, because I know how sucky it can be having to work while everybody else can rest. Hang in there!

I don't think I've plugged my tumblr before in this fic, so I'm going to do it now: it's **tackyink**. If you have any questions, comments that you don't want to leave in a review, want progress updates or just want to chat, you can find me there! Anonymous asks are enabled.

I'd also like to put a typo alert here, because holy crap, I keep catching new ones every time I reread and my eyes are already watery and... well, you know how colds go. I'll do my best to fix any mistakes when I can actually keep my eyes open.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

 **SpaceGypsy:** So so sorry! I do what I can, I swear! And I'm glad you think so highly of this little fic.

 **YuYu4Ever:** I think he knows in most cases, but everything regarding Yuusuke is a mess for the Spirit World. We've seen Koenma be wrong and right about deaths in a least two occasions. I don't want to go into details because I know at least someone who is reading this and hasn't actually watched or read YYH, so I don't want to spoil the surprise.

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

When Koenma left them alone in the lobby of the hotel to go to the opening ceremony, Makoto became even more aware of how out of place they all were.

She looked at her worn Mary Janes and her hand-me-down coat from when her nana was younger. She looked at the men in expensive tailored suits, the women in high heels with sophisticated hairdos and jewelry worth her house four times over, and wondered if her group was going to be kicked out of the premises just based on dress code. Between that and Atsuko pointing out to Keiko every luxury appliance she found in her wake, she wouldn't have found it strange.

The one thing that stood out to her was that all the other hotel guests were humans. If she had to guess, she'd say that this was where the participating teams and their sponsors stayed, but the people who came to watch were somewhere else. Maybe there was another hotel or a camping spot. What was clear was that these people did not wish to mix with rabble, and Makoto was aware in which camp their entourage stood as soon as the first group of humans set their eyes on them.

The opinion of a few humans was the least of Makoto's concerns, though. Since they had arrived at the hotel, she had tried to pick up any hints of Kurama's presence, and instead she had been bombarded by everybody else. The hotel was packed, and behind the masks of refinement and polite restrain, excitement for the next day's fights was on the rise. It made her sick, quite literally, to pick up on so many feelings and little snippets of days that weren't hers to live.

She stood in the lobby near the other girls, glancing around in case she saw the boys, but she knew she was unintentionally paying more attention to the mix of voices and images in her head than the world around her. It was so difficult to push through the fog when she was in crowded places, and she was half-aware that she probably looked as if she had spaced out in the middle of the room when reality was the exact opposite. Still, even through the sensory overload, she knew for sure that Kurama had to be at the hotel, not because she had seen anything with her power, but because she had that prickly feeling on the back of her neck that she always got when he appeared unexpectedly. It was her Kurama radar. She had learned to train it at the hospital lest she die of a scare jump before her nana passed away. Sadly, it was easier to pinpoint the location of somebody in an empty hallway than a hotel.

She was brought back to reality when she heard Keiko ask impatiently, "Are you sure they are here?"

"They are," Makoto said, glad to have something real and tangible to concentrate on, "but they may be in their room already."

"Good." Keiko said drily. "Then we'll get them tomorrow when the first round is over."

Botan pulled out the tickets out of the sleeve of the ornate kimono she was wearing and read them. "The tournament starts at nine. Lord Koenma will pick us up earlier to show us to the stadium, but after that we're on our own."

"That's okay. We watch until they are done and when we get a hold of them our job here is complete."

Makoto wanted to tell Keiko that she wouldn't be able to storm off the island with Yuusuke after the first round, but there was no sense in worrying her at this point, nor did she think that she'd have been able to convince her that she couldn't. Seeing how they all had managed to make the trip to Hanging Neck Island, Makoto was beginning to doubt that there was anything they couldn't do.

"Then let's go get dinner and then to bed," intervened Atsuko. "I can't wait for tomorrow!"

Makoto found her enthusiasm admirable. At least someone in the group was going to enjoy watching the fights, if they didn't get anything else out of this mess.

—

When Makoto woke up, stiff as a board, she remembered blurry images of insects, and a door after a door after a door and a spotlight and Master Genkai.

The alarm clock on her nightstand said it was nearly seven. It was an hour as good as any to get up, so she took her clothes from the day before, went to the bathroom as quietly as she could to not wake up anybody, and when she was done, sat on one of the couches in the sitting room.

Shizuru woke up shortly after, then Keiko, then they called room service for breakfast while they waited for Atsuko and Botan to wake up, and when it was apparent after the alarm rang for five minutes straight that they were not going to wake up, they took it upon themselves to rip the blankets away from them and mercilessly shove them out of bed.

Makoto wanted to believe that the trip had left them more tired than usual and this was not how they normally operated. She suspected she was wrong, but she was happier that way.

By the time they managed to get to the first floor, Koenma had a very unimpressed look on his face, and Makoto hoped that this wouldn't held against her by the time when she died and somebody had to decide whether to send her to heaven or hell.

"About time," he grumbled, and Botan laughed nervously when he glared in her direction. Makoto's earlier suspicions were given a basis that she hadn't asked for.

Their destination wasn't very far from the hotel. The path to the stadium went through a dense forest and opened to a clear at the end, where the building was. Makoto noticed other pathways, less trodden upon, that went into the forest, but she couldn't see where they went. She thought she'd like to explore the island if it didn't prove to be too dangerous. She still didn't know how hostile the people who had come to watch the tournament would be, though she was more concerned in that regard for her companions.

Makoto also noticed that the only other people walking those paths were demons, and there was no trace of any of the rich humans that were staying at the hotel. Same in front of the stadium, where more demons queued with surprising civility, aside from one or two arguing with the guards at the front gate.

Koenma himself led the group to the entrance, and on the way, a scalper tried to sell him tickets. He had reptilian looks and wore a newsboy cap, and after recognizing Koenma and trying to make conversation with him, he took a good look at the others, who were distracted by the uncommon scenery.

The scalper said something about human women being very brave, and when he took another quick glance at them, his gaze lingered for a moment longer on Makoto. She locked eyes with him, silently, but if he appeared unnerved was only because he had been caught red-handed staring.

He smiled at her. "Sorry, girlie, I didn't mean to offend."

She lowered her gaze. "You did not."

The man saluted the group and turned around to resume his work. If he managed to sell just one of those tickets for that price, he'd be set for a month.

"He was green?!" Atsuko exclaimed.

"Did you see, Atsuko?" Keiko added, quieter so she wouldn't be overheard. "He had a tail! And the people queuing barely look human!"

"Who would have thought we'd ever see something like this, huh?" Atsuko said with a grin. She was staring unashamedly at everybody and drawing their attention. Most just looked confused at the sight of an overly enthusiastic human. They probably expected her to be cowering in fear, but they didn't know Atsuko.

Keiko was a little weirded out by her attitude, too. "How can you be so happy? The more I see these people, the more dangerous this place looks!"

"Don't worry about Yuusuke, dear." Atsuko patted Keiko's shoulder twice. "He's too tough to die again."

"Atsuko…"

They were interrupted by Koenma when they got past security. "This is where we part," he said when they were inside and away from the lines of demons trying to find where their gate was. "Will you be able to find your seats without causing a commotion?"

"Yes, Lord Koenma! Don't worry about us!"

"Keep an eye on them, Botan. The last thing we need is something happening to the families of the guest fighters."

"Leave them in my hands!"

"We'll be fine, big guy," Shizuru said, searching in her pocket for a lighter. "We can take care of ourselves."

Koenma sighed, but didn't argue. "Try not to bring much attention to yourselves. See you later."

Their spot didn't take much to find, and nobody appeared to pay any notice to them, aside from a few curious glances. Makoto was thankful when she was able to sit down and rest. She could feel the onset of a headache brought on by the amount of bystanders, almost as if their excitement was pressing on her mind and trying to get inside.

She sat at the rightmost side of their group, next to Shizuru, thinking that at least she could act as a barrier between the girls and whatever demon sat next to them.

Suddenly, Makoto saw someone tumble down the stairs a bit to her right, but then she realized she wasn't even looking in that direction, and when she did, no one was there. She glanced around her, but couldn't pinpoint who would be the unfortunate soul who would fall. Oh, well. Not that it mattered to her.

She watched the stadium fill little by little until she couldn't see a single empty space. To think all these demons were living in secret in the Human World, that they were just a small fraction, and the majority of people didn't know they even existed was astounding. Many of them couldn't even pass for humans if they tried, yet here they were. It was a parallel society living in the shadow of humanity. Makoto couldn't begin to imagine her life if she were a full blooded human and wasn't aware of it. There would be so much missing.

Makoto sneaked a sideways glance to the stranger that sat beside her. A light blue mantle worn over their head and frame concealed the face from the side, and Makoto could only suspect that they were a woman from the finely manicured hand that peeked from under the cloth, but that wasn't a good indicator, in any case. The skin was scaly and had a greyish brown hue, similar to a fish.

Then the speakers of the stadium screeched with a deafening sound, and the crowd roared.

"Finally," Shizuru said. "Are you okay? You don't look too well."

"Yes," Makoto replied, "I am just not used to places this crowded."

"Is that so?" She wondered for a bit. "I don't know how bad it is for you, but you sort of become numb to it after a while. At least that's how it went for me."

"I hope so," she rasped, because she could not picture herself enduring this for a straight week.

Shizuru gave her a sympathetic smile and both returned their attention to the ring in the center of the stadium, where an announcer was greeting the public.

Fortunately for Makoto, her capabilities to see from afar was inversely proportional to her short sight, so even from her seat she could make out the details of what was happening below without a problem. Her optometrist never quite knew what to make of it.

The teams came out, and there _he_ was. She clenched her hands together on her lap, fuming and hopeful and utterly impotent at the sight of Kurama, knowing that she couldn't speak to him until this round was over, at least. If they survived the round.

On the other hand, if Kurama didn't even pass the first round, Makoto was going to take a trip to the Spirit World just to tell him in detail all the _not nice_ things she thought about him.

"What is Yuusuke doing?" Keiko said, surprised, and Makoto focused her attention on the rest of the group.

Yuusuke was being carried by Kuwabara, either asleep or unconscious, but no one seemed to be worried about him. And the fifth team member that she had just seen… Makoto didn't need to be a genius to guess who the masked competitor was. It made her feel better about their possibilities. If any human was able to go through the Dark Tournament and come out alive, it was Master Genkai.

Kuwabara was the first to walk up towards the rival team, and Makoto got so nervous that blocked out everything else. There was only the ring, the two fighters, and the knot in her stomach that wouldn't go away until she saw the boy get off the ring in one piece.

—

Makoto hoped to God that the first fight wasn't an indicator of how the rest of the team was going to fare.

Shizuru had gone from resignation before the imminent death of her little brother to cussing him out in a flash, Keiko had fully grasped just in what kind of danger the guys had gotten themselves in, and Atsuko was more pumped than ever.

On the stairs to Makoto's right, a seller offering suspect bubbling drinks walked by at the same time as a fight over seat numbers broke two rows above them. Makoto turned around to watch, now that Kuwabara was busy yelling at the kid over the loss, and the demon by her side counted a few coins, got up and started moving towards the seller.

Before she could think about it, Makoto grasped the demon's wrist. It was clammy and slippery to the touch. "Wait."

In a matter of seconds, one of the men arguing pushed the other, who lost his footing, fell, and crashed into the vendor, sending them both tumbling down the stairs in a fountain of sparkly, pink, dense fluid. It looked like carbonated strawberry smoothie.

The scaly demon sighed and readjusted the mantle they were wearing. "What a shame. I can only find that drink when I come here." The quality of the voice was strange, as if it was traveling through water instead of air, and it wasn't distinctly male or female. Upon sitting down, the demon turned to face Makoto and said happily, "Thanks for the warning!"

In other circumstances, the now unconcealed face of the demon could have constituted the sort of scare-jump one could find in horror movies and games, but Makoto wasn't expecting to find anything normal –whatever normal was at this point, she couldn't say—under that cloth. Same as the hand, it was also covered by smooth, slippery scales, but still the features would have been those of an extremely attractive woman by human standards if it weren't for the eyes. They were round, big and shiny black.

The demon was smiling, and Makoto thought it was a nice smile. Sincere. They didn't give off any bad vibes.

"You're welcome," she muttered, and looked at the ring again. The demon, in turn, began humming a cheery tune in that strange watery voice.

Makoto's breath hitched when she saw it was Kurama's turn, and she didn't miss a beat to analyze in the demon he had to fight. He didn't look or feel strong to her, but one could never know. If he was participating in the tournament, it had to be for a reason.

"That boy… he isn't human, is he?" Shizuru asked to no one in particular.

"Eh?" Keiko said. "You can tell, Shizuru?"

"He is a demon," Makoto said.

"Really? He doesn't look like one."

It wasn't Makoto's place to explain the details. "It happens sometimes," she said, and Keiko seemed content with that.

The announcer's voice boomed through the stadium, and there was no longer place in Makoto's mind for conversation. "Roto versus Kurama! Fight!"

But as soon as the fighters started moving, Makoto realized that she had been worrying for nothing. Kurama's opponent was far too slow, and the surge of youki when he had grown a scythe had been minimal. Makoto was positive that even she could have taken care of him. And then, to her surprise, he cut Kurama.

Did he have a plan? He had let himself be hit by stopping so suddenly. For the first time in her life, Makoto regretted not knowing what someone else was thinking.

Roto took out some sort of device from his pocket, said something, and punched Kurama, again, again, again, and Kurama just let him. Sit was clear that something was going on, she had no clue what, and she could do nothing but watch. There didn't seem to be anything unnatural in Kurama's posture to show that he wasn't in control of his body, and some people in the stadium were assuming that he had been hypnotized.

By the time Makoto was starting to consider the possibility, Kurama looked up at his attacker, and she discarded it right away. He was glaring at Roto, still silent, immobile, but if someone had told her that a look could really kill, she would have believed it. The disgust and contempt in it could have made someone cower, and in fact, Roto backed slightly away when he saw it.

He cut Kurama's cheek again. Kurama did not blink, and the other demon began to lose it.

More than anybody else, Makoto was aware of how nerve-wracking a stare could be.

She would have been terrified if she had been the one on the receiving end of that look, and that was saying something, because Kurama had never inspired anything close to fright in Makoto. An explosion of anger would have been far less scary, more mundane, more manageable. It was hard to believe that someone was able to hold so much fury inside and remain so outwardly stoic.

At the same time, it was relieving to see, because those weren't the eyes of a man blind with rage. They were the eyes of a predator biding his time to strike at his victim. Or, if you may, the eyes of someone about to get rid of particularly disgusting vermin.

Makoto stared in awe, convinced that something astounding was about to happen.

 _(She remembered._

 _A slash. Another. Cut, blood, dripping down skin; cold fury, unrestrained killing intent, bursting in—what?—red?—flowers of blood—a corpse—)_

She didn't have to wait. A moment later, it was Roto who couldn't move, Kurama took the device from his hand, and as he made his way out of the ring, his opponent exploded into giant pink and purple flowers. A plant native from the demon world, festering in wounds and sustaining itself off of its host.

The public was speechless, and Makoto couldn't tear her eyes away from the flowers and the lifeless body they were rooted in. They swayed, as if dancing in the aftermath of the battle.

She learned something new about Kurama that day, and she didn't dislike what she had seen.

—

Hiei's opponent looked formidable, but he was dispatched in a matter of seconds, and Yuusuke finally woke up and got a narrow win in a pretty spectacular way. One didn't see many people headbutting their enemies unconscious, usually. Fumiko would have loved every bit of that fight, and Makoto wished she was in more familiar company. She didn't dislike the girls, but it was different. She wasn't used to them. They were unpredictable in a way that made her nervous.

Atsuke stretched as much as she could and nearly punched the demon sitting on the row above. "Well, that's it for today!"

"Yeah, enough emotions for a day," Shizuru agreed as she got up, and Atsuko, Keiko and Botan followed. "We've seen the most interesting part anyway."

Makoto was still sitting when she asked, "You… will not want to watch any longer?"

"I'm starving," Atsuko complained, and Keiko made a face at her.

"You could've had breakfast if you had woken up in time."

"I'll do my best to be on time tomorrow!"

"Why am I afraid that that won't be enough…?"

"We can set more alarms!" Botan suggested. "Three or four and it shouldn't be a problem!"

"Do you want to get us kicked out of the hotel?"

Shizuru looked at Makoto curiously while the other went on behind her. "Doesn't it bother you to be around this many people?"

"Not as much as it should."

It was true. Compared to when she had arrived, the constant assaults on her mind felt muted, the voices barely a whisper, the images something she could leave on a second plane with ease. It was like when she was at school, but she assumed that she had grown used to the place. Maybe that was what was happening now, and she was growing less sensitive to the crowd on the stadium, or maybe her own head was full enough of thoughts that it wouldn't allow for more. Whatever it was, it gave her respite.

"Interesting. And good. You would've had a rough week otherwise."

"Can we go, please?" Keiko insisted. She looked a bit embarrassed. "At this rate we'll meet them on the way to the hotel, and I don't want to."

"Huh? Why is that?" Atsuko asked.

"I know! She wants to give Yuusuke a surprise!"

Makoto doubted that the magnitude of the surprise would change no matter how they met.

"No, it isn't like that!" Keiko shot back quickly.

Botan ignored her. "We'll help you find out their room number! Lord Koenma should know."

"Can't we con it from the front desk?" Atsuko suggested.

"That'd be more entertaining," Shizuru said.

"I like the way you think."

They began walking towards the stairs, and Makoto joined them reluctantly. The demon beside her gave her a polite smile, or so she thought. It was hard to tell under the mantle.

Makoto wasn't sure what to make of Keiko right then. She had guessed she'd want to ambush Yuusuke the first moment she could, and that had been the plan when they had got to the stadium, as far as she knew. Now she wanted to leave it for later, and the others didn't seem to be in a hurry to meet the guys either. It was a waste of time, their most precious resource as far as Makoto was concerned, and she was growing restless.

They went inside the stadium just as the announcer began introducing the teams for the second round, and inside of Makoto there was, again, that pull to stay and watch, and she regretted having to go.

They all spent the rest of the day together, exploring the hotel and its surroundings, and while Makoto was in a state of alert the whole time, she wasn't able to find any hints of the guys' presence. She hadn't come to Hanging Neck Island to spend her time leisurely. She had made the trip because it was her only opportunity to see Kurama again.

During dinner, Botan she'd get the room number from Koenma the next day, and while Makoto couldn't wait, she had the impression that Keiko was not so eager.

—

"What do you mean, you aren't going to tell him you're here?"

Makoto looked up from the suitcase that she had been too lazy to undo the day before. Keiko was sitting on the bed, looking a little sheepish at Botan's question.

"It's just that… I don't want to be a bother."

"A bother? What are you talking about? You'd give him strength, how could you bother him?"

"If I saw him, I'd tell him to stop," she said very quietly. "But I loved seeing that expression on his face when he fought. I couldn't have imagined it before."

Shizuru and Atsuko, who had been drinking way too much since the night before, circled Keiko to call her cute and poke fun at her, but Makoto didn't feel like joining in. She had come to the island to find Kurama, and she wasn't going to back out at the last moment and limit herself to watch from afar. Why would she? She would have stayed home if that was the case.

They were already skipping that day's eliminatory matches because their plan had been to go find the guys, at long last. Keiko's refusal and the happy acceptance of everybody else meant that they weren't getting the room number, they weren't talking to them, and they were missing the second day of the tournament to boot. Makoto was fed up of waiting for nothing.

She took out a black wool knit jacket from the suitcase, pulled it over her navy blue dress, and closed the lid quietly, sneaking out of the room while Botan, Shizuru and Atsuko were busy fretting over Keiko (and Keiko fought bravely, but they were too many and too drunk for a single teenage girl).

Out of the room, Makoto noticed that the hotel was quieter than when they had gone out the day before, and so was the outside. Most of the guests would be enjoying the fights, probably. Makoto didn't like the idea of leaving the girls without warning, but someone would complain about her going to the stadium alone, and she wasn't in the mood to endure that. She'd watch one or two matches, go back to the hotel, and stake out the lobby if needed until she caught sight of one of the guys or Master Genkai.

The familiar path was also empty, and the island looked brighter and peaceful while she ambled along it. The contrast of the untouched nature with the dark business going on in the island was stark. Even the buildings didn't look like they belonged; man-made structures dropped in the middle of a forest that circled them and seemed to shy away from them.

When she got to the stadium's entrance, the only remaining people were those watching screens and a few others without tickets trying to make their way in. She thought she would have trouble going inside, too, but when the guard saw her ticket for the day, he only said, 'Just don't expect to find your seat empty,' and let her pass, prompting complaints from the ticketless. She also got an odd look that Makoto took to mean, 'I know what you are and I didn't expect to find one of your kind here,' but she didn't mind. She would've stared in his place, as well.

The guard was right about her seat. It was noon, the eliminatory was still ongoing, and the venue was full to the brim. If she paid attention, she could see an empty space here and there, but she wasn't willing to fight her way into an overly excited crowd for a spot that wasn't even hers. That was more Fumiko's style. And Atsuko's. And Shizuru's. Come to think of it, they would probably get along well. She could introduce them when they got back home.

The key thing was that, while it may have been worth the trouble for a human to sit at a lower level, it wasn't for Makoto. She could see perfectly well from the top corridor, so she remained there, resting her arms and weight against the railing, and watched. Once she got past the initial discomfort of the signals she was picking up, she felt almost at ease with the surrounding atmosphere, the anticipation, the bloodlust in the air. Comfortable, even. She didn't like it. It made her feel less human and more like _them_.

Down at the ring, she noticed right away that one of the teams fighting wasn't normal. There were three humans in it, and while they were making quick work of their adversaries, they simply didn't belong. The only humans unfortunate enough to participate in the tournament were the invitees, and Makoto had a hard time finding a reason for humans to voluntarily join the fray, no matter how strong they were. Their movements were precise but stiff, reminiscent of androids, rather than living beings. There was something unnatural in them.

Other than that, there wasn't much point in the fight if one wasn't looking for mindless carnage –which, if she had to judge by the cheers of the public, many of them were, to the point of supporting humans before their own. Makoto was more interested in their fighting styles and abilities, so she would have preferred to watch two teams more evenly matched, anything to have an inkling of what the guys may have to face in the coming days. As much as her power bothered her sometimes, she didn't like to be in the dark when it came to the future. She didn't know how others could. And she was sure that more than a few contestants were also watching the fights to find out as many information as they could from the enemy.

It then dawned on Makoto that, if anybody in the tournament was trying to scout for future enemies, it had to be Kurama.

He wouldn't be sitting among the public. He wouldn't have a seat, wouldn't want to cause a scene taking someone else's, and wouldn't want to attract unnecessary attention to himself by mixing with the public, so there were few places to look. Scanning quickly the emptier parts of the stadium, it wasn't long until she saw a mop of red hair standing above the topmost row, like her, and his eyes were fixed on the battle below. Knowing him, he was probably weighing all the possible reasons that other humans could be fighting.

Makoto didn't care about that mystery anymore. She ran towards where he was, dodging people left and right, until she thought that she'd like to maintain some dignity and that Kurama didn't seem to be going anywhere, so she could take it slower. He didn't notice her presence as she closed in on him, concentrated as he was on the match that had just finished or, more likely, his own thoughts. It reminded her of how it had been before he even noticed her in class. She had thought he was unobservant and self-absorbed, back then. The latter still stood.

Taking advantage of his blind spot, she walked stealthily towards him, and with a brusque movement she stepped beside him, put her left hand on her hip and _glared_.

He twitched even before she looked at her. Success.

Kurama turned towards her with disbelief written all over his face. Makoto would have liked to have her camera on hand to capture the moment. She wasn't sure she could ever top this no matter how long she lived. She would have also paid for a sneak peek into the thoughts rushing through his mind the few seconds before he spoke.

The first thing he said was, "How did you get here?"

"Koenma."

He frowned. "But how—" Then his expression relaxed. "Botan."

"Indeed."

He sighed wearily, and for once, it was him that was pointedly avoiding looking at her face. "I suppose I shouldn't ask you why you have come."

"That would be rather offensive."

"I thought as much," he said in a defeated tone. "I didn't mean to inconvenience you. Say what you will. I'll listen."

And he just stood there, impassible, waiting for the reproaches to rain down on him. Makoto was beginning to feel bad just by looking at his face, and his resigned demeanor made it even worse. Her temper rose at the same rate as her guilt.

"What are you saying?" She said in disbelief. The gall of this man! "You lied to me and stood me up, and now you're trying to make _me_ feel guilty?"

Considering his surprise, Kurama didn't seem to be expecting that reaction.

"I didn't mean to—" He started in a placating tone, but Makoto didn't let him continue.

"Of course you didn't!" She said, raising her voice, but still low enough that passersby wouldn't hear it without having to stop next to them. "You do it without noticing, that's even worse! Can't you at least try to act like a decent person and apologize?"

"I'm sorry."

She paused to take a good look at his face and declared, "No, you are not."

"I am," he insisted, "I—"

"Look at me in the face and say that again."

He stared into her eyes and said, unflinchingly, "Makoto, I am truly sorry."

It was impressive how good of a liar he was, she had to concede that. "You're horrible."

There was a spark of amusement in his eyes, but he sighed, calmer this time, and explained. "I'll admit that I would do it again if I was in the same situation. Knowing what I do now, though, I see it was a mistake. I didn't think you'd come to this island. So yes, I am sorry –maybe not for the reasons you wanted, but I am."

Her anger subsided against her will. Add infuriating to horrible. "Why?" She said, barely above a whisper, lowering her gaze. "I can understand not telling your mother, but why did you lie to me?"

"I was hoping to save us an uncomfortable moment. Evidently, I failed," he said matter-of-factly.

Makoto looked up once more with incredulity. "You honestly thought it was better to disappear without saying anything than…" She was at a loss for words, so she left the sentence hanging.

"I realize that it was selfish of me, but I didn't think you'd care this much."

"You…" She fiddled with sleeve of her cardigan, tugging harder than she normally would have, possibly to resist the urge to throttle someone nearby. "You thought I wouldn't care if you disappeared without a word. _Really?_ "

"It… does sound rather silly in light of the circumstances, but I didn't want to presume."

Makoto covered her face with her hands, let out a frustrated groan, and when she removed them she glared straight at Kurama. "You're the most… frustrating, inconsiderate jerk that I've ever met. Why do I keep you around?"

He eased at that again. "Not the worst I've been called, but definitely one of the most hurtful."

"Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not laughing at you. I'm sure you've met a lot of jerks. To top them all is an honor I never aspired to."

It was Makoto's turn to sigh. She wasn't angry anymore. Annoyed, yes, but it would go away. He did seem remorseful, in his own, roundabout way, although that didn't mean she couldn't be petty about it. "All right, now let's talk about your face."

He let out a fake gasp. "You wound me."

"I'd say more than that if I wanted to wound you." She huffed and glanced at his left cheek. "It looks like yesterday's cuts are almost gone."

"They'll be in a few hours. They weren't deep."

"They looked nasty from where I was. What did that guy say to you, anyway?"

"I'll tell you later." He took a quick glance around, as if showing that he wasn't comfortable talking about it there. "Are you staying? For the entire tournament?"

"That is the plan," she said. Unless they died before the final, but she really didn't want to think about it. The victory of the day before had given her some hope, if nothing else. She didn't know if that was a good thing. "Though it may depend on what the others say. Which reminds me that you are not supposed to tell Yuusuke and Kuwabara that you have seen me."

"Why? Did you come with someone else?"

"Keiko, Shizuru and Yuusuke's mother. It was their idea to make the trip, actually. Botan is here, too." She saw Kurama open his mouth to retort, but she added fast, "And before you tell me I should have stopped them, I could not. Now I know who Yuusuke takes after."

Kurama didn't look convinced, but it wasn't like he had any say in the matter. He was barely an acquaintance of them, and not even that to Atsuko. "That is… I suppose it's better that you have come in a group than alone, but this is no place for humans."

"I know."

"And why haven't they gone to see Yuusuke and Kuwabara?"

"Keiko chickened out. She says she doesn't want to bother Yuusuke, but I am not so charitable."

"You aren't a bother," Kurama replied right away. "Nor would she be."

Makoto stare at him curiously. "You don't look too happy to see me, though."

"I can't say I like the idea of you being here, but now that you are I'm glad to see you, if it counts for anything."

"Still lousy for an apology, but you are getting better."

"Give me some time. I am not used to them."

"I believe that."

Kurama smiled. It hit her how much she had missed to see him smile genuinely.

Then the stadium burst to life, and when they looked down to see what they were missing, the Toguro team had stepped into the arena. Or rather, just one of them, the leader of the team.

Makoto blood turned to ice, and she sensed Kurama tense up at her side.

"Is it him?" She asked.

"Yes."

They didn't say anything else as the match began. There was no need to, and it was over in less than a minute. He decimated the competition.

The other competitors weren't weak. It was him, the younger Toguro, who was strong beyond words.

They stayed in silence as Toguro was announced as a winner and vacated the ring. The first round was over, and with it all the classified teams were selected.

Makoto kept going over the possibilities. Yuusuke had no chance against him. Hiei, perhaps, if he was able to summon his black flames at will. Master Genkai was probably the one with most options, but it wasn't her that Toguro wanted to fight.

Kurama broke the silence. "Have you seen anything?" He asked, trying to sound casual. "About the coming days?"

The vision of Yuusuke came to mind, but Makoto didn't want to talk about it. It was painful, undefined, fleeting enough that she didn't want to believe that it was a future set in stone. There had to be a way.

She would have never thought like this, a few months ago.

"You," she replied instead. "Though it happened yesterday."

"Oh?" That caught Kurama's interest. "Pray tell."

 _Self-absorbed_ , Makoto thought again, though she was aware she was being unfair. "Your match. More precisely, the end of it."

"And what did you think?"

"That the flowers were pretty. Undeservedly so."

"They usually are."

Makoto had to hold back an amused smirk. "'Usually.'"

Kurama thought over his reply before saying, "I don't go around killing people with Shimaneki grass, if that's what you are suggesting."

"I am not. _You_ just suggested that you used to."

His eyes lingered on her waiting for a reaction that didn't come. Makoto was aware that a person classified by the Spirit World as an A level criminal couldn't have his hands clean of blood. And, frankly, she didn't care. Kurama may have been dangerous, but so was she and Yuusuke, and Kuwabara, and Master Genkai, and none of them represented a threat to Makoto or the people she cared about.

"I am not going to treat you any differently, if that is what you are asking. You may be objectively scary, but I don't think I have any reason to be afraid of you."

"Of course you don't."

"See?" Makoto showed a rare smile. "Why should it bother me? I am sure he deserved it."

"I'd say he did."

Makoto could have sworn he sounded relieved but, as it always happened with him, it was difficult to tell.

The public began to trickle out of the stadium, but Makoto and Kurama stayed there catching up until it was mostly empty. The sooner they went back to the hotel, the sooner Makoto would have to give explanations and stay with the girls, and she wanted some quiet, even if only for a few minutes, with the person she had wanted to see the most for the last few days.


	9. Chapter 9

It's been some time! Sorry for the wait! I don't have much to say, except thank you for your support and your comments, they are always the highlight of my day.

I am also writing a one-shot about when Makoto and Fumiko became friends that I hope can see the light of the day before the months is over. I'm still debating whether to post it as an extra chapter in this story or as a standalone, but it will be available here and on my tumblr.

 **Hermetics:** Thank you! I didn't want to leave Atsuko home because she may be a terrible mother, but her heart is in the right place and I don't like how the anime pushed her to the side in favor of Shizuru (I don't like how the anime treated the girls, in general…). Koenma's also a good guy trying to keep the balance between worlds, but he's aware of the faults of the system and wants to fix them. I suppose I wanted Makoto to know that not everybody upstairs was a complete asshat to those who fall between the cracks. And I always appreciate when someone likes Kurama's characterization, because I'll never get tired of saying that he's nightmarish to write.

 **intrigued:** Thanks for reviewing! I like that Makoto has been well received, because I have a lot of fun writing her personality. As for her backstory, I didn't plan on going into detail because I don't think it's all that relevant or interesting, but I may explain it later in the story or write a one-shot if there's interest. As I hinted on the first chapter, the short version is that one day Makoto's mother dropped her daughter on her brother's doorstep and said she didn't want her anymore.

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

"I refuse to believe that this is happening," Makoto said dryly.

"How long has that alarm been ringing?"

"Five minutes and fifteen seconds. Sixteen. Seventeen."

"Turn it off!"

Makoto dived towards Atsuko's nightstand and smacked the clock hard enough to loosen a screw or two.

Blessed, blessed relief.

"Let's leave without them," she suggested, because if the experience from the day before was anything to go by, this wasn't going to be easy, and Makoto had the feeling that they had to get to the stadium urgently. She couldn't tell why, but she knew to trust her instincts. It made it difficult to explain to other people when she needed to make a point, though.

And it wasn't like she could have convinced Keiko, anyway. The girl was already thoroughly invested in serving justice. "Oh, no," she said, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater and closing in on the other girls. Makoto was reminded of those African wildlife documentaries where a pack of lions hunts a bunch of pasturing gazelles, with the slight difference that there was just one lioness and the gazelles were sleeping with their bellies facing up. "I'm going to take matters into my own hands. And you are going to help me."

"Leave them alone, Keiko," she tried, knowing it wouldn't work anyway. "We are running late."

"Then they should have known better than to get drunk last night!"

It was becoming steadily clear to Makoto why Keiko had become a student representative. Her willingness to take responsibility for others' bad decisions wasn't something she could get on board with, but she thought it was admirable quality nonetheless. Even if it was one Makoto wasn't keen on sharing.

Keiko pointed at Botan's bed. "Makoto, hold that side of the sheet!"

"Yes, ma'am," she replied mechanically, walking to that side of the bed.

Keiko halted her rampage for a moment, and said hesitantly, "Sorry. Am I sounding that harsh?"

"Not really. I just think we are wasting our time."

She recovered her determination in the blink of an eye. "And what about my time?"

"Your time?" Makoto asked, confused.

"When yesterday you fled like a coward," Keiko shot at her, "and left me with these hyenas, they didn't stop making fun of me and Yuusuke for _hours_."

Makoto made a blank face at the accusation. "While I cannot imagine how my presence could have possibly stopped them, I could toss them out of the bedroom if it would make it up to you."

Keiko blinked a few times. "You mean like picking them up and dropping them outside? You can do that?"

Makoto nodded, and Keiko seemed to consider it. An internal battle raged behind those big brown eyes, and Makoto hoped she'd take up the offer to expedite things.

"Last resort," she decided. "I don't want to injure them."

That was a good point for an empathetic human being, but Makoto wasn't fully either. "Are you sure?"

"Don't tempt me," she said, stressing every syllable. "On the count of three you pull up the sheet under Botan, okay?"

"Just to be clear, you do not want her to hit the ceiling, correct?"

Keiko stared very seriously at Makoto. "Pull _softly_."

Makoto had to hold back the beginning of a smile. "Yes, ma'am."

When Keiko counted to three, Botan woke up, and every other remaining guest in the hotel did, too, with the unholy scream she let out.

—

Makoto was sulking, plain and simple. If her regular stares were unnerving for the unaccustomed recipient, one quick glance at her face could have now killed a faint of heart stranger. Evidently, none of her companions fit those conditions.

"Aaah, I'm getting old… To think I just had a couple of glasses…"

"You had at least six, Atsuko!"

Keiko's reproaches weren't helping the hungover part of their entourage, but they made Makoto feel better without her having to put any extra effort towards it.

 _Never again_. She promised herself that this had been the last time she waited for them.

"What's with the sour face?" Shizuru asked, bringing a bottle to her lips that Makoto felt the urge to slap from her hand. The glare she sent her didn't faze Shizuru at all.

They had missed the team's fights. They had missed them for sure, but she hadn't felt Kurama's presence returning to the hotel while they were still wasting time, and she was going to snap if something bad had happened to him while she wasn't looking.

The closer they got to the stadium, the more she felt that something was about to happen. She kept an eye out for anything strange—

"Look, Kuwabara's fighting!" Keiko exclaimed, pointing at the giant screen that had been installed for the people outside the stadium.

—not that, she wanted to watch the fight, but there was something more important, getting closer with each step.

 _One…_

There was a nostalgic, cold feeling in the air.

"That person…" Botan muttered next to her.

 _Two…_

Makoto moved through the crowd, trying to find the source, and then Botan yelled in surprise she saw what she had been looking for.

 _Three._

"Botan?" A short girl in a blue kimono with turquoise hair turned to look at her. "I wasn't sure it was you."

Longing, surprise, nostalgia, all those feelings hit Makoto at once. It was the girl she had seen upon meeting Hiei, and she had to shake some nervousness away because for some reason it felt wrong to have met her before he did.

Botan introduced her as Yukina and explained that she had come to the Human World in search of her brother.

Those red eyes were familiar.

Then Makoto noticed that Botan was sweating bullets and decided to leave the questions for another time. The priority now was to get inside the stadium and find a way to sneak Yukina in with them. She looked at the mob of ticketless demons and the security guard, wondering if he could be distracted long enough for Yukina to scurry inside unnoticed, but it seemed that Makoto was the only one considering the operation from a tactical standpoint, because the other girls were already making their way to the main entrance, tickets in hand.

The guard, who seemed to be the type to get a kick out of bullying easy targets, stopped them with some cheap excuse about humans not being allowed in. He also seemed the type to have extremely poor judgment choosing his victims.

The next thing Makoto knew, before she could step in front of the girls when she smelled the trouble, was that the three human members of the team had literally smacked the man senseless and they were grabbing her and Yukina by the arm to run into the stadium. The cheers and thanks of the demons who had been also trying to get in followed them for some of the way.

Only a few weeks ago, Makoto thought her life had spiraled out of control the day she had to sneak out of school to go to the Minaminos. Deciding that the best course of action was to turn off her brain for a while and go with the flow, she let herself be pulled alongside them. As she had told Keiko, she sure wouldn't be able to stop them.

The group rushed towards the stands, but instead of wasting time finding their seats, they stood up on the lower level, just behind the barrier. They weren't supposed to be there, but Makoto pitied any security guard who tried to pry them away from the spot they had claimed.

On the ring, Kuwabara was getting beaten within an inch of his life, and a quick look at the electronic display told Makoto that Yuusuke and Kurama had lost two matches, so the current one must have been the decisive one, and it wasn't looking promising. Hiei and Genkai were inside what looked like a first-aid tent, and she couldn't see Kurama anywhere. Besides, they had gotten to the stadium very late. There was no way that the round had run so long that they were still on the same one, so what was going on?

She ended up locating Kurama after a second scan of the area, and she almost wished she hadn't. He was sitting against the stone ring, hidden from plain view, his clothes were torn and painted, and he was severely injured. A plant grew from a slash on the inside of his left forearm, looking sharp and rigid. She glanced back at the display. Three opponents in a row. This was either the cumulative work of all of them or the doing of the last one, and she hoped it was the latter, because it was a wonder that he was conscious after sustaining so much damage. It made more sense than to have kept fighting in that state.

His energy was more subdued that usual, weaker, like it had been drained to the last drop. No, not exactly drained. It was there, but so self-contained, so tightly packed, as if forced to stay in a vessel it didn't fit— _that was it_.

She realized then why she hadn't seen him right away, and she blamed the slowness on the uptake on the surprise of seeing so much blood on someone who, at least until that moment, had been neatly classified as untouchable in Makoto's mind.

His youki was sealed. That was why she couldn't sense it without paying an extreme amount of attention. It seemed to want to escape its confinement through the plant and the blood, but it was bound there, unable to slip farther away.

On one hand, it was disquieting that there were people in the tournament who could do that. On the other, it was oddly reassuring. Kurama had only ended up like that because he could not access his power. It wouldn't have happened otherwise. She wanted to believe so, at any rate.

She was so deep in the thoughts she had told herself to ignore just a few minutes ago that she didn't notice the developments of the current fight until she heard a rough landing and Kuwabara appeared next to their group, on the other side of the barrier, to talk to Yukina, fresh as a daisy, as if hadn't been receiving the beating of his life until then. Abandoning them with the promise of a swift return, he climbed onto the ring before the referee's count reached ten. His opponent was out, and Kuwabara had single-handedly, in a literal sense, as Makoto would be told later, salvaged the round in his efforts to look good in front of a girl.

—

"You are the worst," Makoto said bitterly, wrapping a bandage around Kurama's right arm while he was busy wilting the plant protruding from his left.

The hotel room of the Urameshi team was empty save for the two of them. Yuusuke was occupying the bathroom, Kuwabara had gone off with Yukina as soon as he'd had the chance, and the other two had left the hotel as soon as they were clean. Keiko had tried to give Yuusuke an earful, but he had run like the wind towards the safety of a locked door, and the others had tried to distract her by dragging her to buy drinks for the reunion party they were planning for the night. Makoto had refused to go. They overwhelmed her, she was positive that Keiko could handle them and by now she was also reassured that they wouldn't run into trouble with any of the visiting demons – if anything, it's the demons who would get in trouble with them.

"You aren't pulling any punches this week," Kurama joked.

"You grew Shimaneki grass inside of your arm! Are you nuts? Did you really have no better option than a life-sucking demon plant?"

Kurama appeared to be amused rather than put off by her reaction. "It isn't life-sucking, strictly speaking. It absorbs the nutrients it requires from the bloodstream of the host, instead of using water and soil."

" _A blood-sucking plant._ "

"It also takes root in muscle tissue to reinforce its stability," he kept explaining. "It makes a good weapon. Solid and resistant."

"You are not even trying to make it sound acceptable."

"It was a spur of the moment thing. And it worked."

It had, and Makoto couldn't say much against that. "Someday you should find a way to get through a single fight uninjured."

"I'm not that bad."

Makoto stared at him fixedly and very unimpressed. "Really? The two rounds you have been in suggest otherwise. And whatever trouble you got into right after saving your mother. And whatever you did at the Four Saint Beasts' castle. I will be courteous and not mention the hospital incident."

Kurama blinked curiously at her. "How do you know I got injured those two other times?"

"Because you smelled like blood for days when you came back. You may be able to hide it from humans, but not somebody with a decent nose."

He hummed, interested at the revelation. "I thought you didn't notice."

"I thought it was none of my business."

"And now it is?"

Makoto looked at him blandly and went back to the bandage without a word.

"I shall console myself with the fact that you aren't angry with me now," he said when it became clear that she wasn't going to dignify his question with an answer.

Makoto sighed tiredly. "Why do you think that?" She asked, sounding more resigned than argumentative, though she was a bit irked.

"Because you speak less formally when you are."

Her eyes widened a fraction and she paused what she was doing to look at his face. "I do not."

"You do. You don't usually speak with contractions, but you kept using them when you were chewing me out yesterday. It was quite amusing."

Her mouth opened the slightest bit in surprise, which, had she been another person, it wouldn't have deserved a thought, but if the small quirk at the corner of Kurama's mouth was anything to go by, in Makoto's case it was worth a laugh.

She recovered quickly when she saw his reaction, and said, "I don't know why I'm helping you," in a monotone, disgusted voice.

Kurama smiled more widely and seemed to be about to say something when the bathroom door opened and Yuusuke came out, stretching and looking refreshed, and went straight to them.

"Kurama, how are you doing?"

"Better," he replied, twisting his arm enough to let Yuusuke watch the receding plant. "It's almost gone."

Yuusuke grimaced anyway. "You've been at it what, an hour? Couldn't you have used something easier to get rid of?"

"I find it concerning that we are on the same train of thought," Makoto felt compelled to say.

Kurama chuckled softly, and Yuusuke's reaction was an ear to ear grin, like he was proud that his incisiveness had dragged her momentarily to his level.

She decided to change the subject before they tried tag-teaming her. "Did you speak to Yukina yet?"

"Yeah, Kuwabara and I caught up with her after the round. I wanted to talk to you guys about it." He sounded strangely unsure, like he was afraid of saying something he shouldn't. Yuusuke wasn't the type to care about those things, so it had to be important. "She told you too that she was looking for her brother?"

"Yes, she said something about it." Makoto thought that Yuusuke could be the safest person to question about Yukina. He knew her from before, Botan's face had turned green when Yukina had mentioned her brother for the first time, and Hiei would presumably be uncooperative if she tried to get information from him. "Yuusuke, do you know if she's related to Hiei?"

That got Kurama's full attention fast.

Yuusuke grinned again, and his whole demeanor relaxed. "You can tell? That saves me a problem. I think Hiei wants to keep it a secret from her, so we aren't supposed to tell anyone. I mean, even Kuwabara doesn't know because his dumbass left the room before hearing all the info from Koenma when he sent us to rescue her. Can you imagine his face if he finds out that Hiei's her brother?" And he laughed.

Whereas other people would have exclaimed, 'it knew it!" Makoto was content to release a placid smile of satisfaction.

"Hiei is Yukina's brother?" Kurama repeated, looking quite astonished.

Yuusuke's laughter froze and his voice became panicked and hushed, "What? What do you mean? Why are you asking? Don't tell me you didn't know, don't you two go way back?"

"We haven't known each other that long, and Hiei is a very private person. He never talks about his family, and I had no reason to pry."

"Oh man," Yuusuke said, smacking his own face with both hands, "I messed up bad. Don't tell anybody else, okay?" He said to them in a hurry. "Especially Kuwabara. This is classified information and the last thing I need this week is an angry Hiei coming after me."

"Don't worry about it," Kurama reassured him. "We are good at not talking."

"Some better than others," Makoto quipped.

"Good thing it's just the two of you," Yuusuke said, not noticing the offended glance Kurama sent in Makoto's direction, and grumbled as he walked away. "If I'd said it in front of my mother the entire island would know it by tomorrow. Anyway, I'm gonna take a walk. See you later."

When he was out of hearing, Makoto asked Kurama, "Hiei never mentioned he had a sister?"

"No, but he was searching for a koorime when we met. It didn't occur to me they could be family, for obvious reasons."

"It doesn't happen usually, I take it? Siblings having such different powers?" Makoto didn't personally know enough people to tell, but she was under the impression that these things ran in families.

"Not only that," Kurama confirmed. "Koorime are notoriously reclusive and never leave their home country. And they are all women."

That didn't make sense. "Surely they have male children as well?"

"The rumor is that they reproduce by parthenogenesis. They can't."

Makoto had never heard of a humanoid species that worked like that, but she wouldn't put it past the workings of the Demon World. As far as she was concerned, everything was possible there. "So the daughters are genetic copies of their mothers?"

Kurama gave a light shrug. "I can't say for certain, but it would stand to reason."

"That is…" Makoto was curious about what mechanism could make male offspring come out of that system, but she wasn't by any means an expert in demon reproduction, so couldn't make head or tails of Hiei's existence, which was the only sure thing about this conundrum. "Hm. Interesting."

"Indeed."

There was a pensive silence as Makoto finished tying the bandage and Kurama got rid of what was left of the plant. After it had completely retreated into the wound, Makoto winced as she watched him dig out the remains with his fingers, and wondered how many heavy injuries he had sustained through his life to be able to do that without flinching. She became acutely self-conscious that the person before him was centuries old, and yet he was there making conversation with a fifteen year old. It must have felt so bland and boring from his point of view.

At last, he took out something, and Makoto saw between his bloodied fingers a seed, the size of a cherry pit, and just as inoffensive-looking. When the week was over, she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able not to regard every single plant with suspicion.

"I found out something the other day, right before I left," Kurama said, looking exhausted after the strain of removing the parasitic plant was over, but also more at ease. He began to disinfect the wound, and it didn't seem like Makoto's help was needed any longer. "Mom told me she's going to marry again."

The news immediately lifted Makoto's spirits. She wouldn't have bet on getting such a nice surprise those days, and it was the first time in days that she was able to have a conversation that didn't revolve around tournaments or the supernatural. Even she missed being normal, sometimes. "Congratulations!" She said in an uncharacteristic expression of joy. "Is it with Mr. Hatanaka? When will it be?"

"This autumn," Kurama replied, smiling quietly at her enthusiasm. "They have already begun organizing it. I think they wanted to have it completely settled by the time they told anyone else."

"I hope everything goes well for her," Makoto said truthfully. "She deserves it."

Kurama's peaceful smile lingered enough for him to say, "I hope so, too," but it faded soon to be replaced by something darker. "I kept thinking on the way here that I wouldn't be able to go to her wedding."

Makoto's face fell, and she felt like a hypocrite as she said, "You cannot know that," because she had been anticipating him not to come back home since she had known he was to participate in the tournament.

Kurama raised his eyebrows in surprise, probably because he was expecting a les dissenting reply. "You are acting remarkably less fatalistic than in the last few weeks. Did something happen?"

Makoto remembered what she had seen when Keiko had touched her, and the memory felt like a bucket of cold water. She couldn't say she had any solid reasons to believe Kurama would fare any better. "Is that what I seem to you? Fatalistic for the sake of it?"

If Kurama took notice of her avoidance of the question, he was too polite to say it. "It wasn't meant as a reproach."

"I did not take it as such."

Since she didn't say anything else, he continued, but he said something she didn't expect. "I never told you what happened that night at the hospital."

"I never asked."

"And I appreciate it." He smiled briefly. "Yuusuke told me something when we were on the rooftop. He said that there was nothing worse than to watch your own mother cry over her dead son," he paused, going over his next words. "It got me thinking."

Yuusuke was so reckless and happy-go-lucky that Makoto often forgot that he had been dead, even if it was the whole reason that he had been plunged into this mess. What hadn't clicked until that moment was that Atsuko had gone through the death of a son, and all of a sudden Makoto saw her in a new light. She thought of Miss Minamino going through the same, and she wasn't sure that she'd have come out of that ordeal retaining so much strength. Atsuko certainly felt like a force of nature. Like mother, like son.

Perhaps in more than her case, Makoto thought as she looked at Kurama.

"Your mother wants you alive and happy. At all costs," she said. "Just as you do for her. It's what mothers do."

He sighed. "Then I guess I need to get out of this island alive, don't I?"

"You will," she said with a certainty the root of which she couldn't determine.

Kurama looked up at her with interest. "Is that a prediction?"

"Who cares about predictions?" She said with a tinge of annoyance, and Kurama's just stared at her outburst. "If your mother needs you to be happy, you will leave this tournament in one piece and go back to her. And even if I had seen you dead with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it. It would not be the first, nor the second time you openly cheated death." And then she added, a bit more quietly. "I have not, for the record."

For once, she seemed to have run out of witty remarks to make. "No pressure," he said.

"I have faith in you. Everybody who knows you does. It is about time you did it, too."

Makoto was aware that she was being thoroughly analyzed at the moment.

"You have changed," he observed. "In a very short time."

Makoto didn't take that remark as either good or bad, so she didn't say anything. Besides, she didn't know what she could give away, if she did.

"Will you come to the wedding?" He asked then.

The non-sequitur acted like a blow to her steely determination, and suddenly she felt a little dumb for getting so intense. "What?"

"Mom asked me to invite you," then he admitted, "As things stood, I didn't think I would be able to."

"I believe you meant to say 'as I stood you up.'"

"I know what I said, thank you."

Makoto looked at him skeptically, but her words went against her expression as she answered the earlier request. "I would like that. On the condition that you are there."

Kurama's smile widened, and through her mind passed the fleeting thought of how many girls would envy her for having him look at her that way.

Over a thousand years. But for a moment, she didn't feel so inadequate.

"It's settled, then," he said.

—

Since the dirty play of the organization had made the team fight two rounds in a row, they didn't have to compete the following day and use that time to rest and prepare.

That didn't mean that Makoto wanted to miss an entire day's worth of combats, but predictably, her priorities didn't align with the rest of the girls. On the flipside, she knew Kurama would want to go watch, so he unwittingly provided a great excuse to not make it look like she was going alone.

She planned to do that the next morning, in the off chance that the others woke up soon enough to see her leave. They wouldn't, but she didn't want to be pegged as a repeat offender if it would jeopardize her chances of being able to sneak away in the future.

When the time came, though, she ended up going to the stadium alone, because she lingered for longer than she should have during breakfast, and assumed that Kurama would be gone by that point. Taking that walk alone didn't bother her. But on the way out, as if her lucky stars had aligned to give her a foolproof excuse, she ran into somebody else.

"Master Genkai," Makoto said.

They hadn't had a chance to talk the day before. It was apparent that she was trying to hide her identity, and according to the team there was a young woman hiding under the mask, though they all had expected her to be Genkai.

Makoto could understand Hiei and Kurama buying it, since they weren't acquainted with Master Genkai from before, and wouldn't have more than a passing knowledge of the Spirit Wave. She could justify Kuwabara not being able to tell it was her, since they had only met once, even though Genkai's energy was so crisp and clean that Makoto could tell her apart in a crowd with her eyes closed. The young appearance would have thrown most people off, though.

However, Yuusuke not being able to recognize her immediately, and even worse, not knowing about the rejuvenation properties of the techniques he was the rightful owner of was plain, facepalmingly stupid. What had he been doing for the past two months?

She wasn't questioning Genkai's judgement, but her faith in Yuusuke's work ethic was a lot more wobbly.

"Makoto," Genkai acknowledge her, and waited for Makoto until she fell into pace next to her. "I was surprised to see you here. You usually prefer to stay out of trouble."

She wondered if that was also a subtle dig at her for letting her physical condition slip, but then again, Master Genkai didn't have a problem saying things to someone's face, no matter how rude she may sound. She said she was too old to care. Makoto not so secretly thought that she was as awesome as she was tiny.

"I may have had a few bad influences in my life lately."

"Is that so?" Genkai replied with humor. "Maybe it's done you good. You look more spirited than the last time I saw you."

"Do I?" She pondered, and remembered what Kurama had told her the afternoon before. "I suppose. Many things have happened since then."

"It's not so bad to step out of your comfort zone sometimes. You, in particular, should keep that in mind."

That made Makoto feel a little guilty about leaving the girls in the hotel room. She wasn't making much of an effort to get along with them, though they had been nothing but welcoming to her.

"That is true," she agreed. "Though I do not think the current situation was the best way to put that advice into practice."

"I think we can all agree on that."

Once at the stadium's gate, the security guard let Makoto pass as soon as he saw who she was with. He didn't even ask for the ticket. She supposed Master Genkai had put out an impressive show during the round she had missed. Just her luck, she thought crankily.

"Did you receive an invitation, or did you come to help Yuusuke?" Makoto asked, trying not to think of that wasted opportunity..

"A little bit of both and a little bit of neither."

Makoto hadn't seen that second part of her answer coming, but she didn't press the issue. She would have said more if she wanted to.

The stairs that went to the topmost level of the stadium were long and grim as they took them.

 _One—_

Master Genkai was three steps above her, climbing with an ease that Makoto could only hope to match when she got to her age.

 _Two—_

Even with Nana gone, Master Genkai was a strong, comforting presence that Makoto knew she could count on. She'd always been there, and it felt like it always would.

 _Three._

Genkai was cradled in somebody's arms, eyelids closed, body limp, blood spilling from her chest. Gone.

Makoto lost her balance when she came back to the present and had to make a grab for the railing to keep from falling.

Genkai noticed right away and stopped on her tracks. "Is something wrong?"

Makoto didn't like to lie, and it was no use doing it to the old master.

"I think I will get a drink from the vending machine we passed below. Do you want anything?"

Genkai didn't insist on her question, something that Makoto was eternally grateful for. She supposed her face must have been an answer in itself, because all its color had drained as she did her best to keep her composure from cracking.

"No, thank you. I'll wait upstairs."

Makoto nodded and turned around as fast as she could without looking desperate, wanting to disappear behind the nearest corner until her heart settled down.

When her companion was gone, she sat at the bottom of the stairs and burrowed her head between her arms, not caring at all about the passing demons who saw her in that state.

It was the first time in her life that Makoto resented her power.


	10. Chapter 10

An important word before we begin: I've read a few times that in the English dub Kurama has a split identity. This is not the case in the original version or any translations and dubs that I've seen. Kurama is a single entity, a demon spirit fused with a human body. This story follows the events of the original manga, which means "Youko" doesn't exist as a separate person (rather, "youko" is a generic name for the kind of demon he is). Kurama explains it during chapter one, but I wanted to make this clear in case there are readers who are only familiar with the dub.

Now onto the regular notes:

I've been going through the older chapters to edit them. The mistakes, oh god, so many mistakes. I've fixed a few up to chapter 5, and I'm sure I've managed to make a few new ones pop up in the process.

Also, the side story with Makoto and Fumiko is still in the works. It only needs to be edited, but this chapter took priority.

And if you're curious about the Genkai cosplay I mentioned a few months ago, there's a pic on my tumblr. Just type "genkai" in the sidebar and it should appear.

With that said, thank you for sticking with this story, and thanks to all of you who review and make my day brighter.

 **Guest:** Thank you so much to take the time to write all those reviews! I'm glad that you like Kurama's characterization and Makoto (I may steal that "bitter sassitude" for future use because it's perfect, just saying), and I'm very happy to hear that it made your day a little bit better. It's all I can ask for as an author!

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

Makoto barely slept that night, and when she did, the only nightmares she had weren't the ever-present insects or premonitions, but a product of her own mind. She saw Genkai dying again, and Yuusuke, and all the others, and when she woke up sweating and breathing heavily she had to tell herself that it wasn't real, but then she remembered in what state Kurama had ended up during the last round of the tournament and how it wasn't much of a stretch.

Dawn hadn't broken yet when Makoto couldn't stand it anymore and got out of bed. The other girls were still fast asleep, which was no wonder after they'd been until late in the guys' room and then brought the party to their own. Yuusuke and Genkai had been gone since the afternoon, and no one knew where they were.

Makoto had excused herself from the party quietly, saying that she didn't feel well, because she wasn't in the mood to be around them, and she couldn't tell anybody the real reason. What would that do to the team's morale? The girls and Kuwabara would take it hard, even if they didn't know Genkai much or at all, because they were good people. There was no telling how Kurama or Hiei would react to it, but she doubted they'd be indifferent to the news. So she decided to keep to herself, and shuffled away while the others were already starting to pass the drinks and deal cards. Still, she felt Hiei's eyes on her for a moment, and Kurama's followed her until she was in the hallway. They suspected she was hiding something. She wouldn't have minded if that hadn't given her an excuse to tell somebody what she had seen, and funny how this time she really wanted to talk to someone, when she'd been keeping the bad things she knew mostly to herself for many years.

Makoto got dressed in her yellow hoodie and left her roommates a note on the dresser. She felt bad this time for leaving them behind, but she couldn't look at anybody in the face without the urge to break down crying rising. It wasn't fair to them. This was her burden to carry.

Taking her ticket for the day and some pocket change with her, because she didn't intend to go back to the hotel before the day's fights, she left the room silently and walked until she was at the edge of the forest. She took one of the paths she had seen before but didn't know where they went, and ran, as if that would help to leave her thoughts behind.

Makoto wasn't sure how much time had gone by as she went through the forest, passing confused campers every now and then, when she noticed a familiar presence among the trees. It belonged to the only person she wanted to see. Following its lead, Makoto left the path to go into the thick of the woods.

Very soon, Makoto found Genkai sitting under a tree, watching the slowly rising sun that dyed the sky bright orange and pale blue.

"I was wondering when you'd turn up," Master Genkai said, with that kind, sly smile that was so hers and made clear that the only power she needed to see what was to come was that of age.

There, in the timid light of the sunrise, the elongated shadows made the wrinkles of her face and the grey of her hair more pronounced. Makoto was surprised by how old and small she seemed; this woman who she had always looked up to, who was bigger than life, was only human, and the thought was startling and deeply sad at once.

She lowered her eyes to the ground as she walked to Genkai's side and sat down, hugging her legs and hiding her face in her knees.

"You knew this was going to happen," Makoto stated, sounding more aggressively than she had intended.

Genkai wasn't fazed by the accusation. "Of course I did," she admitted without shame. "I'm not what I used to be." She paused for a moment. "Nor are my enemies."

Makoto sat up straight to look at her, incensed, and tears started cascading down her face. "Then why did you come!? Why didn't you stay home!?"

Genkai waited until her sobs got quieter to answer. "You have seen Toguro. Do you honestly think that Yuusuke would be able to deal with him alone?"

Makoto didn't reply to that, because both knew the answer. Instead, she lowered her eyes, embarrassed, staring absently at the cats of her hoodie, and asked faintly. "Where is he?"

"Undergoing the trial every successor of the Spirit Wave needs to go through. He will need to overcome it if he wants to get past the finals."

The talk of succession felt like a twist of the knife to Makoto, sealing the reality that Genkai's time in the world was coming to a close. "And if he doesn't?"

"Then he'll die, and I'll be the one to kill Toguro."

So it was either a choice between Genkai or Yuusuke. Against her will, Makoto sobbed again, and she heard Genkai speak while she hid her face in her hands.

"Wipe those tears, Makoto. This isn't who you are."

She removed the hands from her face and snapped, "I don't _care_. I'm sick of who I am! I'm sick of seeing things I shouldn't and knowing everybody else is going to die while I'm still here." Then she said in a voice much raspier than usual, barely audible, "I want to be normal."

The silence that hung around them was only interrupted by the first early birds of the morning until Genkai spoke.

"That isn't completely true."

And she was right.

Makoto had never cared about having premonitions and seeing spirits. She accepted it as a fact of life, intrusive as it could be. What she did mind, what truly bothered her and she would never be able to change, was that she was caught in between. Not fully human and not fully demon, Makoto didn't fit anywhere. She was surrounded by humans, whose lives were short and fragile, while she was going to live far, far longer than any of them. Not just Genkai or her parents. She would have to watch Fumiko age and die while she stayed the same. One day they'd all be gone, and Makoto would be alone.

Makoto had never cared about many people, but she didn't want to be left behind by those few that mattered.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeves.

"Your world is already bigger than you realize, Makoto." Genkai said when she calmed down, and Makoto looked at her quizzically. "I'm sorry to worry you like this, but I know I'll be leaving things in good hands when I go." She smiled. "And I don't think I need to remind you that no matter what happens, you will always be welcome at the temple."

That was it. That was her goodbye. And against her will, Makoto had to let go as she watched fate steamroll yet another life.

"Thank you for everything, Master Genkai," she said with a strangled voice. "I apologize for not being able to repay everything that you have done for me."

The look in Genkai's face turned witty, amused, as if she had heard a good joke that had just flown over Makoto's head. "Live your life like you want, girl. That's the only payment I need."

Makoto took a deep breath forced out a smile. It was the least Genkai deserved.

—

Makoto got to the stadium quite early, but she hung out outside until the queue got shorter, taking in the atmosphere of the semi-finals and drinking a green tea from a vending machine. Even if she was slightly more at peace with the current situation, she didn't think her stomach would take kindly to anything else.

The one bright side she was able to find that day was that she had grown considerably desensitized to the noise that hundreds of excited attendees were causing in her head. Just as Shizuru predicted.

The new building hadn't been difficult to find, because she had just needed to follow the throngs of people who actually knew where they were going. As for the outside appearance of the venue, well… Makoto was glad she had begun drinking only after seeing it, or she'd have spit tea all over herself. She had the feeling Atsuko would have a field day when she saw it.

By the time she went inside the crowd had thinned considerably, and if she hadn't been aware of the girls' track record, Makoto would have been worried about not seeing them around. She wondered if she'd have to face Keiko's ire when she saw her next for ditching them again, but at least this time she had Yukina to give her moral support. Makoto was convinced that she was much better at it than her, too.

When she got to her seat, sure enough, the space for the rest of the group was empty, and next to it sat the same person as the first day. Makoto sat leaving a seat between them for courtesy, but she could feel the demon staring at her openly, and it felt pointless to ignore it.

"Is there something you need?"

"Are you perchance," said the demon with their watery, unnatural voice, "related to Nanae?"

Hearing Nana's name from this stranger was the last thing Makoto had expected. They didn't sound threatening, so she admitted, "She was my grandmother."

"Was?" The demon replied, and Makoto could make out a frown under the shadow of the veil. "When did she die?"

"Last January. Did you know her?"

The demon let out a bubbly laugh. "Of course I knew her, dear. A lot of people did. But I think we know each other, too."

"How so?"

"You used to go to the lake near Genkai's temple. Throw food for the fish. Nanae went with you, sometimes. Am I wrong?"

Makoto didn't know where the demon was going, and what was worse, she didn't know how they knew. "How do you...?" She stared at their face, racking her brain to see if it was familiar, but she didn't remember. Makoto had seen demons living around Genkai's temple, sometimes, especially in the woods, but none like the one before her stood to mind. Then her eyes flickered for an instant to the silverish, scaly hand that poked from under the veil. "You live in that lake," she said, not a question but a certainty.

"That was quick," the demon smiled, and extended the hand towards Makoto. "I don't usually come out of the temple grounds, or the water, for that matter. Direct sunlight doesn't agree with my skin." Makoto took the hand hesitantly, wondering if she was going to get a sudden flash of anything, but it didn't happen. The skin was clammy and slick. "I'm Amemasu."

"That is not a name," Makoto replied. Amemasu were creatures fish of legend that lived deep in rivers and lakes. And apparently closer than she had thought, too.

"It's what I am."

It sounded fair. "Makoto."

"Pretty. Very straightforward."

"Nana chose it."

"You are her splitting image, dear," Amemasu smiled. "And you have the same air about. It's uncanny."

It was unnerving how easily the demon talked to Makoto, like they already knew each other. Or, to be completely frank, like one makes small talk with another lone stranger while waiting for a show to start. Makoto wasn't used to that, either. "You knew her well?"

"She used to come often many years ago, before she married." Amemasu pouted for a second. "I thought it was a waste, but I suppose I can't blame her for choosing to leave that life after the tournament. I don't think anybody comes out of it being quite the same."

At first, Makoto thought she had misheard. "The tournament? _This_ tournament?"

"The one fifty years ago," the demon replied with a tone that implied that this was too obvious too explain. "The one she won along with Genkai and the Toguro brothers. Surely you know what I mean?"

Makoto really, really didn't.

"Oh, my." Amemasu stared at Makoto curiously, then smiled at her. "Well, there you go. I hope she won't hold it against me if we ever meet again."

Makoto wasn't in the mood for jokes. She felt like all the things she took for granted had come crashing down in less than twenty-four hours. She took a deep breath, holding tightly the hem of her hoodie, and asked to make sure without a sliver of doubt, "My grandmother and Master Genkai participated in this tournament?"

"Quite impressive, I know." Either a Amemasu hadn't caught to her inner turmoil, or didn't care. "Fifty years ago, a group of famous human mediums and martial arts masters were invited. It's the only time in its history that the guest team has won."

"With the Toguro brothers?" Makoto said, feeling extremely dumb for not knowing something so crucial.

"The younger Toguro killed Kairen, the favorite to win that year. The fight was one of those you only get to see every few centuries," Amemasu said with nostalgia. "They made a great team, all five of them. A shame they split after that."

"Why?"

Amemasu gave a small shrug. "I don't know. Next thing I knew the Toguros stopped coming to the temple grounds and when they reappeared, they weren't human anymore."

Makoto wasn't sure how to handle this new information. Why Nana had never told her, what had happened with the Toguro brothers, and why Master Genkai had been invited again if they used to be friends.

"This year's team is getting far, too," the demon said conversationally. "Did you come for them?"

Makoto nodded, not wanting to elaborate.

"Good thing you didn't get caught up in it, then," Amemasu said. "Because this isn't like fifty years ago. I've come to this tournament every year since it began, and the level hasn't stopped going up. Guests nowadays don't stand a chance. Not even Genkai as she is now."

"Shut up," Makoto said sharply, feeling contained irritation boiling inside of her. "You do not know them. They will."

Amemasu smiled, amused. "There's some merit to hear it from Nanae's descendant, I'll say that much. Let's see if they are worth so much confidence."

"Yes," Makoto replied curtly. "We will all see."

—

At this point in time, Makoto was willing to admit that she was falling in love with Hiei's fighting style. He was fast, didn't waste a single movement, and he had a certain flair that she didn't know if it was a direct consequence of wielding fire or just his personality, but there was something artful about the way he fought. She found herself thinking about this and clapping softly as he finished Kuromomotaro with a sword of black and blue-green flames, youki so hot and condensed that had cut through his enemy like he was made of butter. It took a skill and timing one could only acquire after a lifetime of practice. Makoto was, as she had been when she saw the Demon World flames earlier that week, officially impressed.

Little did she know what she was about to see. Honestly, for someone with the power of foresight, she was getting caught off guard far more often than she should have.

Two fights had gone by, though admittedly pretty quick, and girls still hadn't arrived. Amemasu was humming under their breath, evidently enjoying the round so far, when Kurama's name came up on the dice.

One day. Just one day without getting beaten up or grievously injured was all that Makoto asked for.

His opponent didn't even look strong. He shouldn't have been a problem for Kurama – heck, Hiei would likely be able to dispatch him in the literal blink of an eye. But Makoto had a feeling of déjà vu as she remembered the first round, and could only hope against hope that she would be wrong.

Then again, as Makoto had told Kurama in one of their many discussions, she was mostly always right, even when she didn't want to be, and that day turned out to be no exception.

Makoto was torn between worrying and face-palming when Uraurashima pulled on the fishing line that he had set around Kurama and brought him down with a spray of blood.

Once she was reassured that it had looked far worse than it actually was, she settled for the facepalm.

 _One. Freaking. Day._

Amemasu laughed at her frustration. "This boy has a problem with stalling."

"You tell me," Makoto groaned tiredly.

"He's lucky he—" They cut the sentence short when Uraurashima pulled out a mysterious box and opened it. An explosion of smoke followed, and it filled the entire ring, contained by a barrier and blocking out the view of the fighters. "… Or not."

"Evidently not," Makoto said with distaste as angry voices began to rise throughout the stadium. She didn't think the smoke was merely a screen to attack, or Uraurashima wouldn't have looked so confident. There was a trick somewhere.

Amemasu's round black eyes stared at the ring unblinking, seemingly unbothered by all the yelling, probably trying to figure out what was happening as well.

And then the whole stadium went silent as Makoto shuddered, feeling the hairs on the nape of her neck stand as a crackling youki filled the venue, leaking from inside the barrier and striking like lightning, so overpowering that its physical manifestation could be seen to the naked eye. Makoto's breath hitched, not because such a display was way out of the league of what she had seen in the tournament so far, but because there was no question that it belonged to Kurama.

A name whispered in corners when demons and half-demons living in the among humans told sixth-hand tales of glory from the Demon World. 'Kurama' was a legend that had vanished over a decade ago from the spotlight. Some thought he was dead, some that he was laying low, others that he was nothing but a boogeyman fabricated from several overblown stories over centuries.

 _("I lost count at some point after a thousand.")_

The smirk on Hiei's face was the only confirmation Makoto needed to be sure that 'Kurama' was none other than Shuuichi Minamino. _Their_ Kurama.

Mouth slightly open in wonder, Makoto leaned forwards on her seat in a futile attempt to see better as Amemasu shifted beside her, restless.

It went so fast that Makoto barely registered the katana that flew from Shishiwakamaru's hand, where he was standing with the only remaining member of his team, and broke the barrier.

The smoke began to dissipate, leaving in plain sight a lesser demon struck by the katana and, a few paces away, the prettiest man Makoto had laid eyes on. He was a youko, just as the stories said, with cold golden eyes and hair like molten silver. And it was, even then, unmistakably the Kurama she knew.

As the smoke disappeared, so did his demon appearance, until he was back in his human body and it seemed like the fox had been nothing but a mirage. He looked solemn, and appeared to be in thought. What was going through his mind, Makoto couldn't even begin to imagine.

He followed Shishiwakamaru's every move with his now green eyes as the former dislodged his sword from his teammate's corpse, showing zero remorse for his actions. The stadium remained silent even as Kurama left the ring, and the murmur of conversation only came back when Shishiwakamaru trash-talked Kuwabara and eagerly threw the dice for the next match.

"You know," Amemasu sat back, looking relaxed once again, gaze not leaving Kurama even as Kuwabara climbed on the ring, "you might be right about them just yet."

"I always am," Makoto replied, unable to help a discreet, proud smile.

—

Kuwabara's turn came and went. Makoto couldn't put it any other way. She was worried about his whereabouts, of course, but somehow she had the feeling that Shishiwakamaru's mantle wasn't as sinister as he tried to make them all believe.

She felt like a fangirl when Genkai's name came up and the door to the stadium opened dramatically to let her in as Hiei was about to step up to take her place. At last Makoto was going to see her fight. Of course she'd have preferred that no one had to fight for their lives, that went without saying, but she couldn't deny that she had looked forward to see Master Genkai fight seriously from the start.

Something was off, though. She still felt as weak and small as when she had seen her in the morning, like she was missing most of her energy, and Shishiwakamaru didn't look like a foe she could defeat with that level of reiki.

The fight began, and she moved so slowly that Shishiwakamaru managed to cut her mask, revealing her face to everybody and causing an outrage amongst the public.

"For the love of…" Amemasu grumbled when the organization announced a break over the loudspeakers. "Can't they see she's the same person?"

"This is a problem," Makoto said, "but maybe the break while they sort this out will be good for her."

Amemasu raised a pair of delicate eyebrows. If Makoto looked closely, they were actually scales. "Genkai doesn't need their help, dear."

Toguro himself came out right away to calm down the crowd and explain how the Spirit Wave worked. Makoto wondered what was going through the master's mind while she listened, knowing that the man that was trying to get them all killed had been someone she trusted.

"That was tense," Amemasu commented with disdain when Toguro gave the microphone back to the announcer, and said in a lower voice. "Who does he think he is, coming out like he owns the place to steal her thunder?"

Makoto realized then that she wasn't the only Genkai fangirl present in the peanut gallery.

The fight was resumed, but it was clear that Genkai was vastly outmatched by her opponent, barely dodging his attacks already, and it was only a matter of time until Shishiwakamaru got her.

He then struck, and Genkai seemingly moved too late from the explosion that released hundreds of phantasmagoric skulls from Shishiwakamaru's katana. They flew inside the stadium, looking for prey and biting body parts off several spectators. One that appeared to be headed up swerved towards Makoto, but she was able to bat it away with an arm shielded by youki. It broke into pieces that melted in the air, and when the general chaos was over, the only person in the ring was Shishiwakamaru, though not for long. Makoto's uneasiness went away when she saw Genkai jump back into the fray, looking confident.

Master Genkai was proud, but she was not a fool. If she was smiling like that, it meant that she knew the fight was hers.

Amemasu started humming, pleased, and Shishiwakamaru lunged at Genkai with a battle cry and repeated his last attack. Many people who had survived the last wave of spirits ran left their seats in a hurry, in case they weren't so lucky the second time.

This time she didn't dodge, and Makoto watched with amazement how she caught barehanded the falling katana with perfect timing, and the energy that was supposed to burst forth to destroy changed its frequency and passed instead into Genkai, who became fifty years younger to the awe of the stadium and her opponent, and shot back the blast at Shishiwakamaru in full force.

It was done. Makoto clapped her hands again, because if Hiei warranted it, Master Genkai doubly so.

When Onjii, the last standing member of the rival team, threw the dice, Kuwabara made a stellar reappearance, and a moment later so did the girls, who made a few joking remarks about Makoto's continuous desertions. She timidly scooted to the seat next to Amemasu, because Keiko's wrath was a thing to be feared and she didn't want to be surrounded from both flanks, but she realized she wasn't with the group, and it was Yukina who ended up next to her.

"Where is Keiko?" Makoto asked.

Botan grinned from ear to ear and wiggled her eyebrows. "We left her in good company."

Atsuko laughed heartily beside her, and Shizuru just hid smirk behind her cigarette. Makoto turned to Yukina, seeking an explanation, who only gave her a disarming smile and a giggle. She had a passing thought of how wrong it was to see someone who resembled Hiei so much do that.

Amemasu laughed quietly and said, "What a nice group of friends you have here."

Makoto reflex was to say that they were _acquaintances_ , not friends, but it felt wrong, so she kept quiet and returned her attention to the match below.

—

The girls only stayed long enough to watch Kuwabara lose another match and Genkai kick the butt of the clown, and Makoto had to beg to avoid getting dragged out of the stadium with them. It wasn't her most dignified moment, she'd admit that. In the end, she had been allowed to stay, but not before Atsuko and Shizuru draped each an arm around her shoulders, breathing down alcohol and smoke on her, respectively, and Botan told Makoto that if she ditched them the day of the final they were going to hamstring her. Yukina just watched the scene unfold, perplexed, beside Amemasu, who seemed to be enjoying the side show.

There was a lot of expectation for the next match, seeing as it was the Toguro team's turn, but the younger Toguro was absent and the other matches had no interest. Their opponents were leagues below them, and they were all treated to three bouts of senseless carnage. At some point Makoto caught sight of Kurama watching from above, and as soon as the round was done she said goodbye to Amemasu and ran into the stadium to try to catch him on the way to hotel.

Makoto had to make her way dodging and pushing some people that were on their way out, doing her best to get to the main entrance with time to spare, but she saw Kurama even before she reached it. The hallway was mostly clear, and the reason for it was obvious: two members of the Toguro team were there, and Makoto didn't care about how many people she had just seen them kill, because if they were willing to ambush Kurama she wasn't going to stand by and watch. She shoved aside an onlooker to rush towards them, and she only stopped when she saw Kurama trying to elbow Karasu and the latter stepping back to a safe distance for both.

The air was thick with tension and unspoken threat. An impressive amount of youki coiled and pulsed inside Karasu and Bui, enough to make Makoto sweat cold while one of them spoke calmly to Kurama and the other simply stood by.

They weren't going to try anything. This was their version of a courtesy meeting, yet it was scarier than any situation Makoto had ever found herself in, and that was without them acknowledging her presence. The difference in power between Karasu and Bui and the rest of people present was overwhelming.

The two turned to leave and Kurama's eyes flickered to Makoto, seeing her for the first time. She was closer to them than the rest of people who had stopped to watch, and while Bui passed by her side as if she wasn't there, Karasu did shoot her a lingering glance that made her stomach churn. His aura was dark, twisted, sick, and he owned it like it was something to be proud of. Their eyes met and Makoto saw blood, smelled gunpowder and heard a cry of pain that made her feel a twisted satisfaction inside. A concealed smile showed through his eyes, like he had just seen something amusing.

She knew with absolute certainty that this person needed to _die_.

Makoto watched them go taut as a bowstring, sending a look smoldering with hate at the man, her mind in overdrive considering the possibilities of what she could do to help if it came to it, how to destroy him before he could destroy something far more precious, and she couldn't come up with anything, but he needed to—

"Mako," Kurama called from behind, and it was probably the use of her nickname what brought her out of the trance so fast.

She turned to face him, and asked "Are you all right?" as the same time as he did.

He blinked at her once, twice, and let out a small sigh followed by a turn of his lips. There wasn't any trace of the shape he had taken during the fight, but Makoto couldn't help but superimpose the images in her mind. In the same strange way that it felt right to call him Kurama instead of Shuuichi, they seemed to meld together, silver with red and gold with green. "As much as I can."

Makoto regarded him coldly. "You did it again."

"Did what?" He appeared to be confused, but knowing him, he could very well be playing dumb, and if there was a single person in the world that Makoto refused to think dumb, under any circumstances, it was Kurama. _Liar._

"Got injured again."

"That's what happens in fights," he said, trying to take importance off it.

"Got _stupidly_ injured," she motioned at the cuts on his clothes.

He had the grace to look a little sheepish, though he sounded miffed when he replied with a petulant, "I'd like to see you do better." And then he added on second thought, "Well, no, that was a bad choice of words. I wouldn't like to see you in my place, but—"

"I get the drift," she cut him. "And you should know better than to let a fight drag on."

Kurama took a deep breath. "Are we going to do this after every round?" He said seriously, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Have you become my coach?"

Makoto noticed they had an audience, and the glare she sent them, coupled with the spikes of energy she was probably leaking since the previous encounter, had them scampering away.

"Yes," she said to Kurama's surprise. If he wanted to play it like a smartass, so would she, "So you better not do anything silly during the finals, because you are never going to hear the end of it if you do."

But Kurama didn't react to the flippant remark the way she intended. Instead of taking the bait he said, quite serious, "You saw something when you looked at Karasu."

Makoto pressed her lips until they became a line, averted her eyes and unconsciously began to twirl a strand of hair between a pair of fingers.

"Did you see me die?" Kurama asked, seeking her eyes.

As if he needed to. As if Makoto would ever try to lie to his face. It was offensive.

Her fingers stopped, but she kept grasping her hair tightly between them.

She returned the stare, wondering if she'd be able to see something if she tried hard enough, and wondering if she truly wanted to. In any case, and as she had told countless people before, her power didn't work like that. If there was something she wished she could change about it, it was the ability to turn it on and off at will. The only constant in her predictions seemed to be emotion, and that was what she was thinking when she realized that no matter how much she tried, it would be for naught.

"You are too cold," she said in awe, as if she had struck gold, and put his question in the backburner, because saying her theory out loud would help her solidify it and explain why she got so few flashes from him when they had been spending so much time together.

Kurama took the statement point blank and, again, curiosity got the best of him as he let her continue.

Makoto tilted her head and contemplated him as if she had just solved a particularly frustrating puzzle. Her fingers began curling the strand of hair once more as she spoke. "That is why I never get anything from you. The only time was during the first round, and that was because that man threatened your mother. You were furious. But the other fights are not personal." She thought it better. "Or not personal enough. You do not feel enough anger or hate or even fear. You keep them under a lid, secondary and bound to cold logic." She felt more and more certain as she kept going. "While most people would be panicking first and thinking of a way to win second, you are the other way around. You think first and feel on a second plane. That is why I can't see past you. You are too cold. Too rational."

Kurama was uncharacteristically left speechless for a moment, and Makoto thought that this was possibly the best triumph she was going to get over him in her life. A nice insight of how his mind worked, courtesy of the mechanics of her power.

"And would you say that this is a good or a bad thing?" He asked tentatively, and she could almost hear the wheels of his mind turning.

"It merely is." To be honest, 'fascinating' would be the adjective she'd tack onto it. But now that she had dumped all that on him, she felt it was only fair to answer his first question. "I did not see you die."

But he wasn't going to leave it at that, and he asked with acuity, "Does that mean you saw someone else?"

 _Too cold, too smart, too experienced for his own good_ , she thought.

"Yes," Makoto admitted, eyes drifting to the floor. She didn't want to say anymore. Not while it wasn't still real. "And you will know who very soon."

He didn't ask her about it again, and as they left the stadium it occurred to Makoto that she wasn't sure of how much Kurama's impenetrability was due to an analytical mind, and how much to disregard for his own well-being.

Oddly enough, it was the promise to go together to Ms. Minamino's wedding what reassured Makoto as much as vision of victory would have.

—

Makoto was with the girls in their hotel room, with Yukina teaching her how to properly tie an obi while Keiko asked her questions about her home country, when it happened.

She felt it in her bones, a chill that made her shudder, that signaled that Master Genkai was gone forever. Extinguished like a candle by a gust of wind.

Botan wasn't with them. Nobody knew where she had gone, but Makoto could guess. She turned to the window to see that the sky had turned dark grey and a downpour was about to begin.

"Makoto?" Yukina called her softly when she realized she wasn't paying attention.

Makoto steeled herself and put all her willpower into a smile that must have looked quite sad.

"Sorry," she said. "I spaced out for a moment."

There was something in the way that Yukina looked at her that made Makoto think that she noticed more than it seemed, and she felt like she had kindly been left off the hook when the girl nodded and showed her a shiny white ribbon.

"As I was saying, you tie this one around the obi and pass it through the knot, like this…"

If Master Genkai could believe that she had left everything in the right hands, Makoto would bring herself to believe, as well.

The rain started falling with force, but it was bright and warm inside the room, as were the smiles of Makoto's companions, unaware of what had happened and what the future had in store.

Yes, she'd believe. It had worked well for them so far.


	11. Chapter 11

We're almost at the end of the tournament! I don't like retelling the battles because we've all seen them, but I don't think I can skip them without doing the story a big disservice, since they are important for character development. I hope I'm not lingering too much on them and they don't feel like a chore to read. I also hope that having so many heavy chapters in a row isn't getting tiring, but given the canon events, I can't help it much. I'm eager to get to the next saga and pick up a different pace.

I took a few liberties mixing manga and anime in this chapter, but I hope it meshes well enough that it isn't very noticeable.

Thanks everybody for reading, and a special thanks to all who review!

 **Guest:** Thank you! I hope the battle will be entertaining to read from Makoto's point of view. It was a challenge to write without feeling I was being redundant.

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

Botan and Yuusuke were, without a shadow of doubt, the two people who took Genkai's death worse. Makoto knew because Botan kept making frequents trips to the bathroom where she'd hear her letting the water run for way too long, and because Yuusuke hadn't shown up at the hotel since the previous day. She felt inclined to go look for him in the forest, but she didn't think it was her place to do so, and Makoto herself needed the space. She was in no position to cheer up anybody.

She assumed nobody had told Kuwabara, because he acted like nothing had happened. He had insisted on taking Yukina for a stroll on the beach that morning, and Hiei had side-eyed him so hard that Makoto wondered if he was able to set people on fire just by looking at them, and then Shizuru had decided to play the annoying big sister part and chaperone the two, which had devolved into the entire group of girls plus a grumbling Kuwabara heading to the shore.

Yuusuke had gone through his trial. Kurama and Hiei were preparing for the next day. Kuwabara should have been, too, but he probably didn't know how, and Makoto couldn't blame him. No matter who he fought, the match looked bleak for him, but he didn't let his nerves show. Makoto wasn't sure if that was out of bravado or kindness, but she thought he was stronger than he was given credit for.

He left them after lunch, off to train, or so he said, and disappeared into the woods. Makoto felt tempted to do the same, but there was a good chance that she'd run into one of the guys, and she didn't want to disturb them. And so, the hours passed, and she hung out with the girls around the island, taking the chance to visit it and feeling very silly for not having brought her camera with her. The place had the kind of sights postcards were made of.

A demon caught Makoto's eye while she was idling outside the hotel with her group. He was tall with spiky blond hair, and she felt like she had seen him before but couldn't quite place him. He was shirtless and quite banged up. Maybe a participant in the tournament from one of the fights she had missed? Makoto didn't want trouble, much less when the other girls were around, because one thing was smacking a security guard and another messing with a professional fighter. She narrowed her eyes as he began approaching them with a proud gait.

"You," he said with a hint of haughtiness, catching the attention of everyone and making a terrible first impression. "You are with the Urameshi team, aren't you? I saw you during the third round."

His question was replied with three human glares that put Makoto's to shame. She'd have liked to think that it was an ability innate in human women, passed generation after generation within her blood, and that as in many other areas, she fell just short of pulling it off.

Whatever the case was, the man's attitude faltered momentarily and his eyes began to flicker nervously from one girl to another, particularly between Atsuko and Shizuru. Makoto began to feel bad for the man, but she was feeling bad for so many things already that she wasn't sure if the sentiment was genuine.

"Who are you?" Keiko asked warily.

"I," he waved his arm pompously, like he was a performer introducing himself to a crowd and trying to look impressive, but the bandages sort of killed the effect, "am the Beautiful Demon Warrior Suzuki!"

In the silence that followed, actual crickets would have made the place feel less lonely, Makoto thought.

Atsuko hit the palm of her hand with a fist. "Ah! You're that clown from yesterday!"

"Are you sure?" Keiko replied right away. "They don't look anything alike."

"What?" Botan made a double take, and Shizuru stepped ahead until she got smack dab in the middle of his face. "Really?"

Shizuru stared into Suzuki's eyes for an uncomfortably long time, enough that a few beads of sweat ran down the side of his face, and when she finally stepped back, she took a deep drag of her cigarette, blew the smoke slowly, making sure that most of it was going towards him, and snidely remarked, "That's a nice nose you have there."

Suzuki gritted his teeth and took a step forward, but Shizuru continued as if she had just commented on the weather. "It would be a shame if you… _somehow_ … lost it."

Suzuki halted, the other two women went back to glaring at him, Botan joined them with her hands resting on her hips, and even Yukina's deep red eyes felt more chilly than usual.

Makoto felt almost obligated to come to the guy's defense. "What do you want?"

He coughed awkwardly and crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to look intimidating and failing. "Right. I'm looking for Kuwabara and Kurama. I was wondering if you could point me in their direction."

"What do you think we are, their mothers?" Atsuko retorted.

"Well—" Keiko began.

"And why should we tell you anyway?" Botan said. "What do you want with them?"

"Are you looking for revenge?" Shizuru asked calmly.

Suzuki tried to step back unconsciously, but caught himself before he made such a lowly display of weakness. "N-no! I only want to give them something!"

"Hmm…"

Makoto wasn't getting any bad vibes from him, and she was sure that Shizuru wasn't either and just wanted to make things hard for him. It may have been her way of unloading her own bad mood, Makoto guesed.

"And what do you want to give them?" Keiko asked.

"That's confidential!" Suzuki looked at her with mistrust, but it was reflected back at him, and he ended up huffing. "Nevermind! I'll keep looking for them myself!"

He began to walk away.

"What a weirdo," Atsuko said.

Makoto watched him go with pity, spared a glance towards Shizuru, and Shizuru just gave her a small shrug.

Makoto sighed. It looked like he really had wanted to help. "You go on. I will be back," she said, and began to hurry after Suzuki.

"You are too soft!" Botan yelled before she was out of hearing range.

That, she wholeheartedly agreed with.

"Excuse me," Makoto called out to him, seeing that he was going towards the beach. "You are going in the wrong direction."

"Oh—ah—" He turned around, looking embarrassed, and scratched an itch under the bandage on her face. "Can you tell me where they are?"

"Give me a second."

Makoto concentrated, acutely feeling Suzuki's recovering energy next to her and picking up several presences near the edge of the woods, but they weren't those. She searched with her mind, moving her head as she did a sweep of the island but with her eyes unfocused, until she found a spot where the forest seemed to breathe louder, move, be more alive. She couldn't feel his presence, but it was a telltale sign that Kurama was there.

"I found Kurama. I can guide you if you'd like," She said, staring at Suzuki, and while he looked a little uncomfortable when he made eye contact, he hid it well. "It is quite deep into the forest, though."

Makoto got a flash of red skies and a feeling of accomplishment mixed with excitement. Strength was overflowing her ( _his?_ ) body. The wind wasn't blowing, yet somehow felt alive and wild. She blinked away the image.

"I'd appreciate that."

Makoto nodded and beckoned Suzuki along, taking the lead into the woods with him following close by. She paid extra attention to strange movements in case she had misjudged him, but he didn't try anything funny. Still, she didn't drop her guard.

"You are half-human," he commented after a few minutes of silence.

Makoto would have made a sarcastic comment as she often did when someone pointed out the oddity that she was, but it was his way of saying it that made her not to.

She'd always been referred to as a half-demon. It had never occurred to her that people for whom demons were the norm saw it the other way around. She looked at him with curiosity. "That I am."

"Then why are you with the Urameshi Team?" He asked, sounding bitter. "Aren't they sponsored by the Spirit World?"

"They are fighting for their lives, not the Spirit World."

Suzuki didn't reply right away, so Makoto assumed he was swallowing what he actually wanted to say. "Of course."

Makoto liked silence, but the one that hung around them had become strained and uncomfortable, so she spoke. "What is it you want with Kuwabara and Kurama?"

"I don't mean any harm," he said quickly.

"I know that. I would not be leading you to them if I did not."

Suzuki rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "It's like I told you before. I want to give them something that might help."

She took a sideways glance at him while she tried to push a bush out of her way without harming it. "Why would you want to help them?"

He helped with some higher branches. "I want to see Toguro defeated."

Makoto hummed in double acknowledgement. "You have a grudge."

"Yes," he said, letting a measure of regret show in his tone. "But it's clear by now that I won't be the one to settle it."

There was a small clearing just ahead, still far, but vegetation wasn't so thick around those parts and Makoto's long range sight was good enough to make it out through the greenery. Suzuki seemed to be in luck, because Kurama seemed to be talking to Kuwabara.

"They are there." Makoto pointed towards them, and she thought a little before adding. "You will go farther than you believe."

Suzuki stared at her suspiciously, but curiosity got the best of him and made him ask. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure," she replied sincerely. "I just know you will."

If Suzuki was really going to help them, the least she could do was offer him that little something to make him feel better.

Perhaps her intentions got through to him, because his expression lost some of its edge. "Thank you."

Makoto gave him a small nod for a goodbye and decided to go for a walk alone. She didn't think the girls would miss her much if she lingered for a while.

—

All right, maybe she had lingered for more than she intended to. And maybe the girls would mind a little, but it was honestly so nice to be alone in the forest, where her mind's defenses weren't being constantly assaulted. And maybe she didn't have enough willpower to leave the guys completely to their own until they decided to go back to the hotel, which explained why she had passed near the spot where she knew Kurama was some time after leaving Suzuki there, and upon seeing that he was alone, she had grown curious as to what he was doing.

That was how she found herself in the unlikely situation of timing with her watch how long the effects of the drink Suzuki had given Kurama took to kick in, and how much time he had until it wore off.

The first fifteen minutes were spent waiting expectantly, sitting on the grass with her legs crossed, wondering if the liquid was going to have any effect at all. The next fifteen, were spent internally, _calmly_ panicking about the possibility that the change wouldn't be reversible. It spoke miles about how convinced Kurama was that he was going to lose if he fought with his human body that he'd risk blowing his cover with his mother.

He had not asked Makoto about Genkai, possibly because he was waiting for Makoto to comment on it, and she hadn't. As the hours passed after her death, Makoto's need to tell someone about what she knew had ebbed away and transformed into a fear of admitting what had happened. She felt like it wouldn't be real until she said it out loud, that they'd all be able to go back home together and Makoto would go to the temple and find her there, as always. Besides, it was not the time to dump her sad feelings on anybody, so she took advantage of Kurama's politeness and didn't bring up the subject. It was for the best.

Back to the present, Kurama in demon form was quite imposing, Makoto thought, even with the fluffy tail and ears working against him. Makoto had seen demons reminiscing of eldritch abominations, but she had always thought there was something uncanny about the more humanoid ones, the ones that you could confuse for a regular person one second, and Kurama was no exception. She supposed she wasn't, either, in the eyes of others.

The ghost of a smirk escaped him while he examined his arms and flexed his hands, like he was trying to get used to a tool long after picking it up.

"Happy to be back in your old body?" Makoto asked.

She had the theory that her mind still hadn't completely processed that the Kurama she had known all along was the one from the stories, that they were both still being kept as separate entities, which possibly explained why she was so calm talking to a man with that sort of bloody history behind, and a long one at that.

The other explanation she came up with was that she simply didn't care, which would only mildly surprise her, because while she liked to think she had some resemblance of a moral compass, she was suspected that it hadn't pointed north for a while. Maybe it never had.

Whatever the case was, Makoto wasn't the slightest bit unnerved, even with that impressive youki spreading over the forest clearing and the grass under her feet rustling reverently with its touch. No matter what body he was using, he was Kurama, and that was enough to put Makoto at ease.

"In a way," he said.

She wasn't sure if he was avoiding the question, wanted her to insist or was too lost in thought to elaborate. "But not wholly."

"No." He didn't sound annoyed at her, so she guessed it wasn't the former.

"Are you worried that you will be stuck in this body?"

"I'll deal with that if it happens," he said, stretching his arms. The movement reminded Makoto of a sore fox who had been for too long in the same position, but she wasn't sure it wasn't just her mind fishing for similarities to amuse her. "I am angry that I had to resort to this, to begin with."

His voice was lower than the one she was used to, and he sounded perhaps a bit more cutting and detached. Makoto wondered if it was any similar to when she released her energy freely, when she was in the temple grounds – that feeling of her fighting instinct trying to take over, the sensation that she had thrown out the window some of her restraint along with the lid she kept on her energy.

"Is there any difference, aside from the amount of youki you have?" She asked, and though she was referring to fighting ability, she wouldn't have minded a more general answer. It wasn't what she got, though.

"It's the quantity that makes a difference in quality, actually," he replied. "The body of Shuuichi Minamino doesn't have enough youki to summon plants from the Demon World. This one does."

"And I am guessing that they are exponentially more deadly than the regular plants that you routinely turn into murder weapons."

Kurama smiled in amusement. It was a little comforting to think that both were able to keep some sense of humor, all things considered. "They are."

"Nice." She blinked a few times while looking at him. She could have sworn she had seen maybe a tinge of red in his hair, and then—

The transformation wore off, which was relieving on one hand, but it had only been a few minutes. Makoto immediately checked her watch.

"Fifteen," she announced.

"Fifteen to take effect and fifteen until it reverts," Kurama said to himself, thinking.

"What do you plan to do?"

"I'll try again later. If the results are consistent, I'll drink the liquid before the fight to win some time."

Some of the youko's energy was still hanging around him, slowly dissolving into air. Makoto didn't know what felt stranger, Shuuichi's body losing energy like that, or his demon body moving in the same way as his human one, as if the same person had been dropped into an alien body while retaining everything else. Which, on second thought, was basically what had happened.

"Will the span of the transformation be enough?" She asked.

"More than enough," Kurama said, deadly serious but definitive. She had the impression that he couldn't take the situation as lightly when he was in his human body, and it was no wonder why. "From what I gathered yesterday, he seems to have an explosive youki that he injects in his victims. As long as I keep my distance from him until I transform, I should be fine."

"Good," she replied, standing up and dusting off her jeans, and said with a violent edge that she usually didn't display, "Crush him."

Master Genkai had been enough. She didn't want to see anyone else die.

"Yes, coach."

Makoto smiled sheepishly. "Idiot."

—

Makoto had promised to herself and to Keiko that, if necessary, they'd wake up the others at the break of dawn to get in time to the stadium. They were _not_ being late this time, and Makoto was _not_ going ahead and let the others get lost. But for the first time that week, drastic measures were not necessary.

There was a charged atmosphere in their room, even the night before, as the realization that the final day was there and it was going to be serious settled. No one stayed up drinking until late, and the next morning, Atsuko was the first to get up and loudly wake up everybody else.

Without thinking, she tapped a sleepy Makoto on her shoulder, and it happened again.

 _He was dying and there was nothing she could do. She yelled and yelled but Yuusuke was on the ground, unmoving, and she didn't care about the corpses and the people fleeing the stadium, because her son needed to get up, please, not again—_

Makoto was disoriented and shaking when she came to. A wonderful way to start the day. Thankfully nobody noticed, or so she thought, as they were too busy getting ready. Makoto dragged herself out of bed and headed for the sink as soon as the bathroom was free.

—

The stadium had gone back to loud. Makoto didn't know if it was because the rough awakening had left her predisposed to hearing it or because the general excitement was really that high, but the voices and images hammered in her head incessantly, and it was difficult to keep them on a second plane. It was, to say the least, unusual to get such intense signals from people who were nothing more than viewers. What was prompting it?

She then remembered people were running when Atsuko touched her. Was something going to happen with the audience? Makoto looked nervously at their group. As strong willed as they were, three of them were human, making them easy victims if things went very wrong.

They took the seats Shizuru and Atsuko had impressively conned from the reseller they met the first day, with a much better view than the one they'd had the previous days, but Atsuko's yelling in favor of the guys was turning their spot into a danger zone. Makoto caught a few demons giving them the stink eye, and she gave it back to them, letting some of her youki leak out in the process. It was enough to make keep them in line.

She wondered if Amemasu was back in the stadium, if they even knew what had happened to Master Genkai. Makoto was inclined to believe so, but the stadium was so full that some people were blocking the view of their old seats, so she couldn't check.

The announcer introduced the teams, and the whole stadium was treated to a repeat of the last round when Genkai's mask was ripped because both teams were lacking a member. Makoto just stared very intently at her hands, tightly clasped on her lap, when she heard Keiko ask where Master Genkai was. A knot formed in her throat, and she was glad she didn't need to talk when Botan got up with the excuse of a bathroom break and Shizuru followed her.

She looked up again when she heard the gates to the arena open, and out came from each side the Toguro team's sponsor, first, then Koenma, who Makoto hadn't seen since the first day of the tournament. She had assumed he wouldn't have stayed because a higher-up from the Spirit World surely had better things to do, so seeing him came as a surprise, and when he offered to take Master Genkai's place Makoto felt bad for treating him so coldly when they met. Just a week prior, if she had been told she'd see the son of King Enma risk his life for the sake of two humans and demons, she wouldn't have believed a word, but there she was, seeing it with her own eyes. It made her hopeful that he hadn't lied to her during their conversation on the ferry.

Whatever the case, any feelings of relief Makoto may have had vanished when she saw Karasu step up to the ring, mimic a shot to his head evidently directed at Kurama, and Kurama follow suit.

It went downhill from the beginning.

Makoto didn't know how much earlier Kurama had taken the liquid, but she was worried that he wouldn't be able to hold on even for a few minutes. The difference in power between the two combatants was disgustingly plain. He truly had no chance to stand up against Karasu as he was.

She watched Kurama set up a whirlwind of petals infused with youki, pretty and deadly at once, just like the man who had created them, but they didn't make Karasu stand back, and she soon found out why, along with Kurama: he didn't need to touch objects to make them explode.

The battle became a game of tag that Kurama was bound to lose, making Makoto wince when an explosion finally hit his left arm, and at last Karasu, apparently tired of chasing after him, materialized a bomb in his hand and blew up a part of the ring of the ring with it. Makoto's face drained of color when she realized how much they had underestimated the man's capabilities if they hadn't even been able to see the shape of the objects he created.

She lost sight of Kurama under the cloud of dust and smoke, and for a beat she stopped sensing his energy to too, but she caught side of a rose piercing Karasu's right hand, and she could feel that something was about to happen. _One, two…_

The familiar energy of the youko started crackling in the air, washing over everybody present, and Makoto released a breath she had been holding all along. Atsuko and Keiko didn't seem to be aware of the change until Kurama stepped from under the wreckage in his old body, and even Shizuru looked a little confused about what had happened until she put two and two together. Makoto then remembered that they hadn't been present the first time Kurama had transformed.

She involuntarily glanced at her watch. Fifteen minutes.

The flow of the battle reversed, with Kurama getting rid of every bomb Makoto guessed got closer to him, because she couldn't see them, and calling a carnivorous plant that grew from under the tiles of the ring and launched itself towards Karasu. One of the traps caught him, then another one, and another, and for all appearances, the battle seemed to be over.

Makoto checked her watch again. Less than five minutes. The Kurama from decades ago had been scarily strong.

 _One._

The announcer declared Kurama the winner.

 _Two._

Something was wrong. Makoto's eyes bore into the plant's traps. Karasu was still struggling underneath.

 _Three._

The concrete under them trembled with the ensuing explosion while the remains of the traps and stalks fell to the ground, charred and smoldering. Karasu was bleeding and had lost his mask, but he was walking nonchalantly towards Kurama. He stopped then, and at once Makoto felt him start to gather a huge amount of unstable youki inside of him, turning his hair blonde, and saw Sakyou step behind the younger Toguro. That attack was not going to be like the previous ones, and some of the more savvy members of the audience seemed to have noticed. Makoto's group wasn't aligned with Karasu's direction, but for all she knew the whole stadium was about to blow up.

"Be careful!" She yelled at the girls when he made his move, and not a second had passed when a blast of huge proportions shook the foundations of the building and created a shock wave that knocked people from their seats, not to mention decimated the section right behind the Urameshi team. Debris fell from the upper parts of the stadium onto the audience and around the ring.

Makoto cleared her throat of the mouthful of dust she had swallowed and saw that the others were fine. Kurama, however, had received the brunt of the attack, and she was sure he couldn't have come out unscathed out of an explosion of that magnitude.

Makoto's hand flew to cover her mouth as she saw, unblinkling, how Kurama stepped out of the debris once again, but the fox was nowhere to be seen – he was in Shuuichi Minamino's body again. For the third time since the battle had started, Makoto checked her watch, and she felt irrationally betrayed by the hands that indicated that less than ten minutes had passed yet. The effect had worn off way too soon.

Kurama rushed towards Karasu to fight him up close, which meant he had to have run out of youki and he had become unable again to see the bombs, but he had to have been planning something to risk getting so close to him. She became aware of what he had wanted to do when Kurama got a hit in and right after Karasu dug a seed out of his chest. But no, would Kurama have bet so much on a repeat trick? There had to be something more, something she was missing.

Makoto was gritting her teeth and holding her hands together so tight that she heard something crack, and she was holding back with all her might from shaking from sheer impotence and anger.

A bomb caught Kurama's left foot and dozens more appeared around him, and for the first time Makoto was able to see what Karasu's weapons were. A dark realization hit her right away why – he was toying with Kurama and wanted him to see exactly how he was going to kill him. The memory from when they had crossed paths in the hallway came back to Makoto. She kept wincing with every bomb that hit Kurama, and she wasn't sure how she was able to stay put while she watched, when every fiber of her being was screaming to _kill, kill, kill that man and leave no trace of him behind_.

If Makoto hadn't been looking so intently to what was happening below, she would have noticed the slightly scared glance Yukina was sending her or how her youki and reiki were spiking unusually, trying to break the iron grip she had on them before her blood was boiling.

Kurama hit the ground, and Makoto shifted in her seat, making use of all restraint she had left to not jump out of it.

Karasu launched his last attack, but before he really could, Kurama's youki flared, his last reserve, and a spiky plant with needle-like stems shoot forward, straight to Karasu's heart. Both fell.

Without a word, Makoto rose from her seat and ran downstairs and into the stadium to the gate behind the guys, skipping all the steps she could without tripping, going as fast as her legs allowed her to, all while she refused to believe that Kurama was dead and she had done _nothing_ to avoid it.

She got there in time to see Yuusuke jump onto the ring to pick up Kurama, who had just moved. Makoto's legs turned to jelly as she stood under the shade of the gate, watching Yuusuke help him out, and then the announcer proclaimed Karasu the winner.

There was a pause due to general confusion, but the stadium broke into applause as soon as it was revealed that Kurama the referee had counted to ten while Kurama was on the ground.

Makoto found that she didn't care. He was alive.

She ran towards the guys, surprising Kuwabara and Koenma when she passed them on a straight line to Kurama and Yuusuke, who had just gotten the two of them down from the ring.

Yuusuke looked surprised for a split second, but he smiled at her. "Hey, Makoto. Don't worry, we've got everything under control."

Makoto gave him a deadpan stare at his sad attempt to defuse the situation, but she noticed it had sort of worked, nevertheless.

Kurama was covered in dark red stains from head to toe, and it was nothing short of a miracle that he hadn't passed out from blood loss. His breathing was uneven, probably because staying conscious was proving to be an effort given what he had just done – how he had managed it, exactly, Makoto didn't know, but she figured there were better times to ask – and he was having so much trouble standing up that Yuusuke helped him sit down against some rubble.

Makoto kneeled down beside them. "Should I get Yukina or Botan?"

Kurama shook his head. "Later. I'll be fine."

"You sure, man? You don't look so good."

"The strength of my old body is coming back. It's enough to stop the bleeding and accelerate the healing somewhat." He glanced at the Toguro team, who seemed amused at something Hiei had said. "It'll be better if nobody else comes down here."

Makoto felt some embarrassment at that last part as Yuusuke nodded at him and rejoined the group, but Kurama looked at her as soon as he left and said, "It wasn't a reproach."

"Oh," she said dumbly, avoiding looking at him. "Is that true? You are getting your strength back?"

He was so weak that instant that Makoto could barely make out the wisps of youki flowing about him.

"It's how I was able to call that last plant without dying. At least, that's my theory." Then he shut up, allowing her to speak, and Makoto assumed that he was likely expecting her to get on his case again.

However, she sat down beside him, watching Hiei step onto the ring to face Bui, and told Kurama, "Sorry I cannot be of any use." She said it matter-of-factly, but it stung so much to admit, even as relieved as she was that he was alive. "I was never able to use healing abilities. Master Gen—" She stopped suddenly when she realized what she was about to say and kept avoiding Kurama's stare as she continued. "My energy is too unstable to pass to another body without disrupting cell functions dramatically. I could take a paper cut and make it worse. I want to help, but I don't know how. Sorry," she repeated.

Kurama's face was unreadable when he said, "Thank you."

Makoto snuck a glance at him and asked, "What for?"

He didn't reply. Makoto sighed, and then the next match was announced, and she had something else to pay attention to.

—

Hiei's match, as always, was short, or maybe it felt shorter than it actually was because it was a sight to behold.

The dragon twisted and turned in the air, first attacking Bui, then flying back to Hiei, and its energy engulfed the entire building like wildfire burning unchecked in a display of power that Makoto had never imagined in her wildest dreams. It was magnificent and beautiful in its raw force, and when Hiei absorbed it, it was like those qualities had passed onto him as well. Makoto was reassured that she was watching a fight for the ages, that it wasn't just her and her limited perception, when she saw Kurama's astonished face as Hiei unleashed the dragon upon his opponent.

It was over as soon as the dragon went back to Hiei. Again, too fast for Makoto's taste, but that was a win in their favor, and the guaranteed survival of another of the guys for the time being.

It was also a sign to take a recess, because the stone ring had been broken to pieces along with the part that Kurama and Karasu had partially destroyed and it had become unusable.

The team took Hiei to their waiting room and Makoto went back upstairs to get Yukina and Botan, though the rest of them ended up tagging along while the stadium got repaired.

It took hours, and at some point, possibly after watching what was left of the organizers run like headless chicken for too long, Toguro offered to bring the ring from the other stadium as a thank you for seeing the black flames. Makoto had no interest in seeing the man who had killed Genkai show off, so she stayed in the room while the girls, Yuusuke, Kuwabara and Koenma went out to watch.

She thought a sleeping Hiei, and peaceful and almost innocent looking was a much more impressive sight, at any rate. She was leaning against a wall with her arms crossed, staring at Hiei curiously, because the other options were the ceiling or Kurama, which would have been more awkward if only for the fact that she had to crane her neck up for the former and the latter was conscious.

"Found something of interest about Hiei?" Kurama said, not lifting his eyes from a book that Makoto wasn't sure where it had come from. He was covered in bandages, though most were hidden by his clothes, but still Makoto had been there while Yukina healed the worst of it and had helped bandage his arms and left leg. That had been the whole extent of her contribution.

She also had a pounding headache thanks to the demons who were watching the fights, and she was trying not to recall vividly the vision she had in the morning, so there was a grumpy edge in her voice when she replied, "He almost looks like he is not a hardened criminal."

"You'd be surprised at the variety."

"Not anymore." Then she added, "He could be cute were he not so aloof all the time." She didn't miss the irony in that statement coming from her.

Kurama raised an eyebrow and looked at her completely neutral face for a split second before going back to his book. "Has he caught your fancy?"

He chuckled when he saw the baffled expression on her face, and she replied like he was talking to a lost case. "Do any of the herbs you are using mess with your head?"

"I was joking."

"Please do not make a career as a comedian."

He sounded casual when he asked, "What's on your mind?" Then again, he had been idly passing time for six hours, so he'd had time to collect himself despite the situation.

'Too many things', Makoto wanted to reply, but instead she looked pointedly at him, because she was frustrated with herself and it was another one of Kurama's near death experiences what had triggered it.

"It is always the same," she began, right hand unconsciously moving to the chain of her glasses, but they were hidden inside her navy blue dress and she grabbed at air, so she let the hand fall to her side. It was still red from being squeezed so tightly before, and her palm was marked by indents of fingernails. "You risked your life for your mother, to stop the Four Saint Beasts, and now this. All of you are fighting for your lives. Master Genkai died," she stated it at long last, and it felt so raw and unbelievable when put like that that she could believe this was a nightmare she'd wake up from. "I knew it would happen and it didn't change anything. What have I done all this time? Watch and stay on the sidelines and nag you about being reckless. My premonitions do not serve any other purpose than to sound ominous, my energy is too odd to heal or fight seriously. I have been useless all along."

She was so angry with herself she could feel her energy boiling inside; the two of them, spiking unevenly, the source of a good part of her shortcomings. There had been an inkling of truth to her saying that she wanted to be normal – she would have traded her half-baked reiki and youki for just one or the other in a heartbeat. She could be so much more if it weren't for that absurd roadblock making everything ten times harder for her and, as a result, for the others.

"You are doing what you can," Kurama said placatingly, but it only riled her up more.

"What I can do is not enough."

"Makoto," Kurama said patiently, though sounding a bit befuddled. "Nobody wants you to be anything you aren't."

And he said it with that honest tone of his, not the one he used when he was being a smartass; the one she couldn't help but believe, and she didn't find it in her heart to tell him that yes, there was someone, and that was herself.

She brought her hands to her face, maybe because she was more touched by what he had said than she wanted to let on, maybe because the headache was becoming unbearable and she didn't feel like having such a heavy conversation, and let out a tired sigh.

 _(But everybody had always wanted her to be someone different, hadn't they?)_

"I should go with the others," she said, taking a cheap exit out of the conversation, and he made no attempt to stop her.

 _(Her biological mother, her parents, her classmates. Even Fumiko, at the start.)_

"Kurama," she called when she reached the door, pausing momentarily and bringing herself to lock eyes with him. There was a knot in her throat that made her sound traitorously weak. "Whatever happens, please, don't die."

His lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words, and she didn't allow him the time to do so.

 _(Only Nana, Master Genkai, and now him.)_

"Mako, you should've seen that big guy carrying the ring!" Atsuko told her as soon as she got near the group in the hallway.

"He's a monster," Keiko said, noticeably less passionate than the older woman. "Let's go to our seats before they get taken." And she placed a hand on Makoto's arm to bring her along.

 _(And maybe…)_

Makoto looked at the girl like she had never really seen her before.

 _She doesn't think_ _ **I**_ _am a monster._

Somehow, that comment from Keiko and the warm hand above her elbow prompted all the tears she hadn't shed before to her eyes, and it was like all her bottled up feelings were overflowing and she couldn't keep them in check anymore. And try as she might, she wasn't able to stop sobbing for long enough to explain to the worried group that she wasn't crying because something was wrong, but the exact opposite.

They made their way upstairs huddled around Makoto while she wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeves, calming down, because it was becoming harder and harder to stay upset as long as they were with her.


	12. Chapter 12

Last chapter of the Dark Tournament arc! It's been a long way until here, but I hope you've enjoyed the ride and will stick around for the next one!

I tried to make this chapter as readable as possible by giving more attention to the girls, considering I had to summarize two long fights and I couldn't skip much. I won't blame you if you find them repetitive and skim through them.

I know I have a few reviews left to reply to, and I'll get to them as soon as I can. I'm prioritizing putting this chapter up because I don't have much time right now.

As for the next update: I know I've updated three weeks in a row, but this story will take the backseat until I put up the next chapter of my One Piece fic. I thought this was a good point to pause for a few weeks before diving into the Sensui saga.

And on more Anomaly related news, two super kind readers drew Makoto fanart! The links will be on my profile as soon as I find a way for this site not to gobble them up as I post them.

 **Guest:** Thank you so much for the drawing! She looks very similar to how I imagine her (pretty much the only difference is that she has blunt bangs in my mind), and darn, I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that glare. And I am so sorry about this, but I read your fight against this site's system first thing in the day, at 6 AM, and I got up from bed laughing myself silly. It is _awful_ with links. Every time I reference my tumblr I don't know how to write the url to avoid it being eaten.

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

A bunch of jerks had taken their seats by the time the girls got there. There were four of them, and they were big and smelly but not impressive any other senses.

Atsuko cracked her knuckles and headed straight towards them to make them move, but they looked equally unimpressed with her. Shizuru, however, only spared them a brief glance and walked past them. Makoto caught on right away and motioned with a hand at the other girls to follow.

"Where are you going?" Atsuko asked, loud and indignant.

"Leave them alone," calmly replied Shizuru. "There are a lot of empty seats, and those have a bad vibe about it."

"But these are our seats! It's a matter of principle!" Keiko bristled.

"They are going to die," Makoto clarified bluntly, fixing her stare on the demons. Her eyes were still slightly rimmed with red, adding to the unnerving effect. "This part of the stadium is going to blow up."

"Oh, then you should've said it right away!" Keiko said, following along without a complaint.

Atsuko took a last disdainful look at those demons and said, "You've been lucky."

"I'm sure they've stunk them up anyway," Botan dismissed them. "Look, there are a bunch of open seats closer to the top."

They found seats in a safer place, but those four didn't move away, even though they kept sneaking restless glances towards their group. Their loss. They had been warned.

The round resumed in a few minutes. Makoto had had enough time collect herself and let go of some of the tension had had piled up on her, but the day was still far from over, and her head was still hurting hard, every heartbeat like a hammer to her temples.

She watched Kuwabara climb onto the ring with familiar sword hilt clasped in his hand. It looked like the one Shishiwakamaru had used in the fight against Master Genkai, and she realized that that must have been what Suzuki wanted to give him, and that he really had wanted to help, after all. She wondered what he was going to do with Shishiwakamaru's sword, though, because it wasn't his style at all.

Makoto soon saw that she had assumed wrong. The referee signaled the start of the fight, and just like that, Kuwabara conjured an amazingly powerful sword out of the hilt, similar to the one Hiei had used against Kuromomotaro, but this one was bright with all the colors of the rainbow crossing it like sparks, and its glare hurt the eyes. Without missing a beat, Kuwabara launched forward and cut the older Toguro in half. The audience was shocked, as was Kuwabara himself, and most notably Shizuru, who was making a face that said it all about what he had expected from his brother. Cold.

It was obvious that there was a trick. What wasn't as obvious was that Toguro was going to break out from under the stone of the ring to attack Kuwabara from behind, who fell to the ground when Toguro's fingers pierced him. Makoto had seen him do the same thing with team Gorenja during the semifinals, and he could have killed the boy easily, so he must have had something in mind.

Toguro snatched the sword that Kuwabara had dropped, and Makoto didn't hear what he said next, but she saw Toguro talk, and then his right arm twist and grow and even change color until it became a likeness of a young Genkai.

Even as she became livid with rage, Makoto's acute sensitivity caught onto several things – the onlookers nearest to ground level straining to hear what was being said, the way Kuwabara's energy wavered –he hadn't known the truth, Makoto noted somewhere in the back of her mind– the way Yuusuke's reiki shot up around him, as did the younger Toguro's youki. But much closer to Makoto, unexpectedly, what made her look away from the gross scene below was the spike of energy coming from Shizuru. Her eyes had become slits burning with hatred, and when some ash from her ever-present cigarette fell on her trousers, she didn't pay any attention to it. She wasn't blinking.

Shizuru, who was always the personification of cool. Shizuru, whose brother was fighting for his life in front of her. Shizuru, who had known Master Genkai for longer than any of them, and nobody had thought much about it because everybody took for granted that she was rock and never wavered. The week had worn down on her too.

Makoto heard her mutter, "Bring him down, Kazu," with as much intensity as only an encouraging older sister could put into a whisper.

As if on cue, Toguro's fingers extended forward, ready to pierce through Kuwabara's skin, but he wasn't able to. A surge of reiki from Kuwabara had created a protective barrier around him, the kind that only people with exceptional energy were able to employ in combat as a shield. It was probably due to the shock and rage, but the fact stood that he was doing it. He had come a really long way since he had begun training for the tournament. Then, as if he hadn't been impressive enough already, he sprinted towards Toguro and before reaching him shot dozens of tiny reiki blades that shredded the man to bits.

The effort left him without barely any energy, and Makoto hoped at least one had hit a vital organ of Toguro, but as soon as he started regenerating it became clear that that hadn't happened, and Kuwabara didn't have enough time to catch his breath before he found himself pinned to the ground by Toguro's appendages and about to get his head cut by a scythe.

It happened at the last moment. The sword hilt Suzuki had given him glowed from the ground, far behind Toguro, and with a flash, a zigzagging line of energy shot from the sword to Kuwabara's hand and cut Toguro unexpectedly, but as soon as he fell down, he began putting himself together again.

The sword changed, transforming from a powerful edge in Kuwabara's hand to something wider, round and flat. Toguro didn't have time to dodge.

Shizuru smirked as she watched her brother squash that sorry excuse of life into the stone tiles and leave only a gory pulp behind.

Before even his victory was announced, Kuwabara leapt down from the ring to punch Yuusuke. Makoto felt for him. For both of them, actually, because it wasn't fair that Kuwabara had found out about Genkai that way, but it wasn't fair for Yuusuke either to expect him to talk about it.

She remembered the blue wristbands he was wearing from her vision. Genkai had died in his arms. He didn't deserve that.

He didn't deserve getting the responsibility of avenging her dumped on him, either, but Makoto knew, not the way her power made her know, but the way a friend trusted another to deliver, that he would do it. Just this once she didn't want to be certain; she wanted to be able to believe freely.

As if to prove to Makoto that miracles were real and this was not a day for preconceptions, she watched the sponsor bet his life on Toguro's victory and Koenma do the same for Yuusuke. The son of King Enma, putting his life on the line for the Spirit World's lapdogs. Makoto wondered if the half-demons back home would believe a word if she told them what she was seeing.

After that short interruption, the round resumed, and the last fight began.

Toguro's youki flared monstrously as his muscles twitched and grew, but, Makoto found out, the energy didn't feel as twisted and dark as it had in Karasu's or his older brother's case. He was threatening not because he consciously aimed to, rather because of sheer volume – and there was more untapped potential below, she could sense it as her stomach clenched like a vice grip and her heart rate accelerated before the danger. It took Makoto a moment to notice that his youki was so powerful that it was actually dissolving the weakest among the audience, but she wasn't feeling it in full force, and when she looked at her companions to see how they were, her eyes met Yukina's and found the reason in Puu.

A barrier projected from him was encasing them, keeping the human women from certain death. A creature born from Yuusuke's soul was protecting them. Makoto though it was fitting and heartwarming, but she didn't have time to fully appreciate the meaning of it before the fight began.

At first the two combatants simply traded blows that they kept dodging, though Yuusuke managed to get a skillful kick in to get away in time with the impulse. He had tried to do the same that one weekend they had sparred together and failed miserably. Makoto couldn't help a proud, tiny smile at knowing that that one wouldn't have just hit, but completely flattened her.

It went on for a while, until at one point Yuusuke was aligned with their group and he didn't try to dodge, but Toguro didn't take advantage of it either. Makoto felt the man's eyes on them, and he stepped back.

The stadium clamored for Toguro with enthusiasm while Makoto tried to decipher who was this man that had killed Master Genkai in cold blood but refused to hurt a group of women watching him fight, that had forced Yuusuke into the tournament but had the gall of pretending to fight honorably, that had been a companion of Genkai and Nana but then had left everything to become _that_.

Yuusuke feigned a Reigan shot and attacked normally, and when Toguro retaliated and hit the ring instead, Yuusuke used the cover of the stones that had been sent flying to shoot a Reigan the size of which Makoto had only ever seen coming from Master Genkai.

It blew up part of the stadium, along with their old seats that those four demons hadn't vacated, and the ring, and judging by the sound of snapping trees, pushed Toguro far into the forest. Everyone was in awe; even the announcer was having trouble finding words for Yuusuke's display.

Then Toguro came back into the stadium, walking at a slow pace that only made him look more menacing. He didn't have a scratch on him.

Makoto's heart sank. There had to be something more, surely Master Genkai hadn't left Yuusuke so unprepared if she knew what he'd be facing, and she had been so sure of him—

Yuusuke snapped off his wristbands to reveal spirit cuffs, and Makoto let out a mix between a sigh and a groan. What an idiot.

"Has he been fighting with those on?" Botan asked with disbelief.

"Attaboy!" Atsuko yelled, standing from her seat. "Now's the time! Kick his ass, Yuusuke!"

Makoto was sure Yuusuke couldn't have heard them even if he were paying attention, but he went ahead anyway and made Atsuko the proudest mom of the universe. She was standing up, yelling and punching up as Yuusuke pummeled Toguro, who couldn't even move with how fast Yuusuke was hitting him, and he finally hit the ground on his back, creating a small crated on the ground.

Yuusuke jumped back from the crater, and a chill went down Makoto's spine. Louder than the excitement of the crowd, the cries of agony of those who had died or were about to, was the sensation of something incoming, like the sea retreating before a tsunami hit the shore. _One, two—_

A much thinner Toguro stood up and smiled at Yuusuke.

 _Three._

His muscles didn't twitch this time. They twisted, rearranged themselves into something horrid and bigger, more inhuman than ever, grey, taut, wired. He threw up as his body reconfigured itself, leaving behind no trace of the man he had been before other than the look of insatiable bloodlust in his eyes. How far gone had he been to agree, no, to _ask_ to be turned into that? He was destroying the stadium with his mere presence, and many more people were disintegrating just by being in contact with it. Makoto and the girls had to run from their seats to avoid getting crushed by rubble, and the headache and growing nausea was making it hard for Makoto to stand up.

Toguro snapped his thumb, and it took a few seconds for Makoto to realize that he hadn't shot any youki – he had hurt Yuusuke with the pressure of the air he had moved. Then he did it in quick succession, testing Yuusuke, until the boy got tired of running away and attacked him head on.

Toguro stopped his punch with the same thumb he had been snapping, and broke Yuusuke's arm with the ease one steps on an ant.

Yuusuke fell contorting in pain, but he didn't linger and shot a Reigan that Toguro couldn't dodge.

The enormous ball of reiki stopped short of hitting his chest as he dissolved it with a yell. Then he lunged towards Yuusuke and punched him in the chest, propelling him to one of the upper sections of the gallery. A pair of strange tubes rose from Toguro's shoulders, and they started absorbing all the energy in the vicinity.

Even through the barrier Puu had erected, maybe because she was more sensitive than the rest of them, Makoto fell on her knees when Toguro's amplified youki began hitting the people in the stadium. She hid her head between her arms and covered her ears in a reflex gesture that didn't help at all, because she felt like her head was going to split, hearing and feeling more and more presences being sucked and disappearing in agony. She dry heaved a few times with so much force it brought tears to her eyes, and Makoto was only able to look up when a gentle hand touched her shoulder, infusing her with a steady, cool energy that soothed her. Yukina's youki. There was concern written all over her face, but she didn't miss the stern quality hidden in her demeanor.

Even through the barrage of cries, images and sensations in her mind, Makoto recognized how extremely rare her calm was. Although she was worried on the outside, a stable undercurrent ran inside. It reminded her of Kurama, but in a less detached, warmer, peaceful way. No one could fake that kind of strength. Makoto couldn't even begin to imagine what she had lived to be able to feel so tranquil in a situation like this.

"Hold on," Yukina encouraged her, and Makoto nodded at her deadly serious as she helped her up.

She then though she heard Master Genkai's voice, but it couldn't be true, could it? Puu flew towards the fighters, and upon seeing Botan's and Shizuru's faces while they worked on maintaining the barrier, she immediately knew she hadn't imagined it.

It was hard to make out what was being said below, but Makoto thought that Master Genkai was encouraging Toguro to do something. Puu came back to their group shortly after Yuusuke yelled at him, and landed next to Keiko, who was in shock by what was happening. Makoto knew exactly what she was thinking, feeling, seeing, and she wanted to reach out and tell her not to give up, like Yukina had done for her, but she was bound to receive the full impact of her feelings and join her on the floor.

Below, Yuusuke attacked Toguro incessantly as he walked towards Kurama, Kuwabara and Hiei, and Makoto's heart skipped a beat. Toguro ended up slamming Yuusuke to the ground, and when he faced the guys again, Kuwabara ran at Toguro, and Toguro drove a hand through his heart.

Makoto didn't see Kuwabara falling to the ground, or Kurama running to pick him up, but she saw the barrier around them waver, and when she looked at Shizuru her jaw was clenched tight, and her hands were shaking, but she didn't stop working. Puu seemed to pick up the slack for her as the barrier stabilized.

She hadn't noticed, and with the tension and effort she was putting to keep them all alive, Makoto couldn't blame her. "Shizuru," she said with urgency, "he's alive."

Shizuru looked at her in confusion, then her eyes unfocused for a few seconds as she searched for her brother's presence, and she let out a long sigh as she searched her pockets for a new cigarette. "He's…" She looked paler than usual when she forced a feeble smile. "Of course he is. Only the good die young."

It was plain too see that Yuusuke didn't know, though. The energy that emanated from him filled the whole stadium with sadness, but it was comforting, too, and Makoto's headache relented as it enveloped her.

He had grown so incredibly strong.

Yuusuke stopped Toguro with just one hand around his wrist from going towards his other teammates, punched him, and shot a Reigan of a magnitude Makoto had never seen. When Toguro got up, Yuusuke called him, standing tall, and pointed his index finger at him. That was it. All would be decided with that final blow.

Toguro stood in front of him, waiting to receive the attack as Yuusuke charged it, putting all his energy into it, and Makoto felt the headache coming back as the energy collected itself back inside him, ready to be shot.

After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Yuusuke fired.

Toguro took the energy ball head on, and with a horrid bellow took it between his arms and tried to squash it. The force of the shot made him slide backwards very slowly, and the entirety of the venue was in silence as they waited for the outcome.

Yuusuke buckled over, and all seemed lost when, with one great final effort, Toguro clutched the Reigan so hard that it popped and vanished. But just a few seconds later, while he stood unmoving, cracks began to appear all over his skin, like a wall crumbling under pressure, and pieces of muscles and tendons began to break off him until he could no longer stand up and fell face first to the ground.

Makoto was having difficulty to believe that the nightmare had come to its end, even as she felt Toguro's last remnants of youki and life energy flicker and disappear. At the same time, Yuusuke rose, weakened but alive.

The referee and the announcer didn't take half as much time as any normal person would have needed to gather themselves, and with an outstanding display of professionalism, proclaimed Yuusuke the winner.

Makoto looked over at Keiko while Botan and Atsuko cheered. Yukina was next to her, trying to make her come to her senses, and Makoto approached her with caution.

"What should we do?" Yukina asked, worried. "She doesn't react."

"We will have to carry her out." Makoto was wondering who was going to do it, because she didn't dare touch her, when Shizuru apparently read her mind.

"Don't worry. We'll get the guys to help." She kneeled beside her to look closer. "She isn't hurt anywhere, is—?"

Shizuru's question was cut short by an earthquake that shook the building and made some loose parts of the ceiling fall off.

"Come the fuck on!" Atsuko complained, and Makoto shared the sentiment. "Can't we catch a break?"

"We need to get out of here now!" Botan urged them, and then started signaling for the guys to go up. " _WE'RE UP HERE! HEEEELP!_ "

"Forget about them and let's get moving by ourselves!" Atsuko yelled. "Take her legs and I'll get her by the arms, quickly!"

"I don't think we can move so fast carrying her, Atsuko!" Botan tried to explain, but Yuusuke's mom was having none of it.

Fortunately, the stadium was empty enough that the others knew where they were, and they got there in no time. Yukina ran towards them, explaining the situation, when something clicked in Makoto's brain.

"Yukina!" Makoto shouted too late as a wall crumbled and threatened to fall on her. She was too far from reach, and Makoto was panicking internally when Hiei happened and got Yukina out of the way. It was probably the first time they exchanged words since meeting. Makoto's appreciation from him just kept growing day after day.

Yuusuke, who was way too energized for someone who had just had the battle of his life and tried to murder his undead friend, decided that the best way to wake up Keiko was to slap her silly, and Keiko decided in turn that the best way to come out of her trance was to slap him unconscious, thus transferring the necessity of having to be carried out of the building and demonstrating to Makoto what Yuusuke had meant when, all those months ago, she had punched him and he had replied, 'Keiko hits harder.' Makoto had thought it was a taunt, and only then she saw the error of her ways.

Keiko took it upon herself to carry Yuusuke on her back before anyone could reach out to do it, and they all left the stadium together, watching it collapse in the distance along with the other survivors. Makoto was even able to catch sight of Amemasu among the crowd before they disappeared, and she also saw Suzuki, at whom she directed a nod of gratefulness, which he returned with a nod of manly acknowledgement and a little smirk.

When Atsuko complained that there was nobody left to grant the wishes of the guys, Yuusuke replied that he didn't care, and looking up to the night sky, he yelled, "HEY, OLD FART, I WON!"

Makoto felt Kurama's eyes on her right away, as well as the uncharacteristic urge to give Yuusuke a hug, though she didn't move an inch.

It had been a long day, but her headache was at last ebbing away.

—

Makoto zipped her suitcase after checking its contents three times to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything. By the time she was done, Shizuru had taken two smoke breaks and Atsuko had managed to stuff all the free soap, shampoo and three hotel towels inside her luggage.

"They are good quality! And it's not like we're coming back," she had said.

They headed to the hotel lobby, and seeing that the guys still hadn't come down, they took one last trip to the beach. It was early morning and the island was quieter than ever. Again, she regretted not bringing a camera with her to take a picture of the view, but on second thought, she wasn't sure she wanted to. Makoto had lost something very dear in that place, and maybe it was for the best to forget as much as she could to put it behind her. The guys had won, but victory felt empty. She wondered if Yuusuke felt the same way.

However, Makoto was pulled out of her thoughts when Botan conveniently produced a camera from inside her windbreaker and dragged her for a group photo. And another. And another.

"Smile!" She said as she took a picture of Makoto and Yukina. Makoto was certain that the picture would come out far better if she didn't try, so she didn't change her expression.

"Don't you want any pictures of yourself?" Makoto asked.

"Yeah, Botan, come here for one!" Atsuko gestured at her to approach.

"Sure!" Botan replied happily, and said to Makoto. "Do you mind taking it?"

"Not at all."

Botan handed the camera to Makoto. It was good quality, similar to the 35 millimeter Canon Makoto had at home, but much lighter, though it didn't seem to be made of plastic. She couldn't recognize the brand.

"You have to press this button," Botan pointed out, but Makoto didn't stop inspecting the camera.

She took a look through the visor and asked Botan, "Do you mind if I make some adjustments?"

Botan scratched her cheek sheepishly, "Sure, I don't really know much about cameras other than how to shoot." She laughed at herself. "Do you like photography?"

"A little."

Botan stared as Makoto tinkered with the diaphragm and the ISO range, and when she was done, Makoto looked again through the visor and snapped a close up picture of Botan's face. She put the camera in front of the other girl then to make her use the visor. "I changed the film speed. Should work better in this light."

"Aaah! It's true! You need to tell me what you've done!"

The corners of Makoto's mouth curled up a fraction. "Later. Pictures first."

"Right! Come on, ladies, we have a professional in charge!"

"Make us look good!"

"It would take an honest effort to make us look bad, Keiko."

Maybe having something to remember the trip by wouldn't be so bad, Makoto thought as the group huddled together for a picture that Puu managed to bomb by escaping Keiko's hands right when she pressed the shutter button.

—

The trip to the harbor after reuniting with the rest of the group was bittersweet, to say the least. Makoto felt like she was leaving a part of her behind in the island, had the certainty that she could never look at things the same way. Master Genkai was gone, and with her so many answers and shared moments.

She could see in Yuusuke's sluggish steps that he was having a hard time, too.

And then, out of nowhere, Makoto remembered a dream from a few nights ago, where Master Genkai was stepping into a room that she couldn't recognize.

 _One._

Had that happened at all?

 _Two._

Were her powers failing her? She glanced around quickly and her eyes met with Shizuru's, who also seemed to be sensing something strange. There was some surprise in that look, and suspicion, and maybe a little bit of shared hope.

"Young people these days…"

 _Three._

The ashes from the cigarette Shizuru held between her lips fell to the grass as a voice called out to the group from behind.

"…leaving an old woman behind."

Botan yelled and ran towards Genkai while Makoto stared at her in disbelief, rooted to the spot. She tried not to pay attention to the leap her heart made and blinked several times, waiting for the woman before them to be a trick of her mind or an illusion. Even when many of the others started rushing towards her, she stood there, waiting, in case it was a vision that would vanish in a moment.

While Botan and the others were all over Genkai, she glanced at Makoto with an amused smile, and Makoto realized that what she was seeing was real.

"Aren't you going with her?" Kurama asked her. She hadn't noticed him approach, but in this instance it wasn't because he had been particularly stealthy.

She blinked another couple of times for good measure, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked sideways at him. "I think I have had too many emotions in a week," she said with a deadpan.

Kurama chuckled and kept going towards the others, but she didn't move until her heart settled down.

"Let's take a picture!" Botan yelled. "Mako, can you check the camera?!"

—

The ferry sailed steadily under the midday sun, peppering light jewels all over the ocean. Makoto stared at the waves with a hand on the railing, thinking that it seemed a lifetime away when she had made the same trip backwards, and her surprise at finding out that Koenma was not the person she had always assumed he was.

Yukina was next to her, enjoying the sea breeze. At some point, she asked with out of the blue, "He isn't a bad person, is he? Hiei, I mean."

Makoto glanced at her quickly with curiosity and started playing with a strand of black hair. If Yukina had any suspicions, she had to be careful to not give anything away. "I don't think he is."

Yukina smiled. "That's what I thought. He looks so serious all the time, but I think he means well."

"He saved you yesterday," Makoto said in agreement.

"Yes!" Her eyes shone with happiness. If Makoto had taken the cutest baby animal in the three worlds and put a ribbon on it, it still couldn't have held a candle to Yukina. "And when I was captive at the mansion."

"He was there too?"

She nodded. "I know it's a silly thing to say, but I feel a bit like he's a guardian angel." She looked thoughtful for a moment as she brought a hand to her lips. "That's the expression humans use, isn't it? 'Guardian angel?'"

Makoto had to bite back a smile. "It does not sound silly at all."

Yukina giggled delicately. It looked like she wanted to say something else, but she dropped the subject altogether and directed her attention back to the sea.

"What are you going to do from now on?" Makoto asked her. She had come to the island on her own, and she didn't seem to have any contacts in the Human World other than their group.

"I'll keep searching for my brother."

Makoto hesitated. "Yes, but where are you going to go? Will you be alone?"

"Don't worry." Yukina smiled at her reassuringly. "I can take care of myself."

Makoto was aware that she couldn't tell her to do otherwise, and she wasn't able to offer her hospitality with her family situation, but it felt wrong to simply let her leave on her own after she had helped them so much.

"There is room at home, if you have nowhere better to stay."

Both girls turned around to see Master Genkai had approached them.

Yukina hesitated before replying, "I wouldn't want to impose."

"You wouldn't." Genkai smiled at her. "There's more than enough space for the two of us. Besides, it'll be good to have someone else around. I'm getting too old to take care of the place by myself."

 _Liar_. Makoto shot her a knowing look full of approval.

"I'd love to go with you, then," Yukina beamed, and she excused herself afterwards, when Shizuru waved at her to move closer.

"They are a nice bunch," Genkai said when they were out of hearing, crossing her arms behind her back and watching them with a fond expression.

"They are," Makoto agreed with a small voice.

Genkai's brown gaze was as piercing and discerning. "How are you holding up?"

"Much better now. My head had stopped hurting by this morning. And you are back." It felt good to be able to speak clearly again, without the worry of being hiding things from the rest. She paused. "You knew this would happen?"

Master Genkai hummed noncommittally. "I had my suspicions. One doesn't need powers like yours at my age."

"You had a lot of faith in Yuusuke, too."

Her expression soured. "That dumbass had every tool at his disposal and we had to put on a show just to make him use his real strength."

"You had…" The sentence died in Makoto's lips, because she didn't want to be disrespectful, but she wanted to ask if she had had faith in Toguro not killing Kuwabara, too. Instead, she switched for another question that had been burning in her mind for days and she had thought she'd never be able to ask. "Why didn't you or Nana tell me about the other tournament?"

When Genkai looked up at Makoto, there was nostalgia all over her face. "Nana wanted to leave that life behind. When she married your grandfather, she decided she wanted to have a regular family."

"That did not go so well for her," Makoto said with a tinge of sadness. She hadn't helped.

Genkai shook her head, as if she knew what Makoto was thinking. "She wanted her children to be able to choose their own lives instead of being forced into that one, and they did. And she wanted the same for you."

Makoto stared at her shoes as she absentmindedly fiddled with her left sleeve. She sounded dejected. "But she could have told me."

"Wouldn't you have wanted to live up to that image of her, then?"

Her fingers froze.

"She didn't want that," Genkai continued. "And until now, you have chosen for yourself not to fight. If someday that changes, it should be a decision born from you, not what you think you owe her. Or me, for that matter," she added with a savvy smile.

Makoto looked timidly at Genkai, avoiding her eyes. "But do you think it would have disappointed her if I did?"

"I think Nana was extremely proud of her granddaughter, and that nothing short of selling her soul for the sake of fighting would have changed her mind."

Makoto stayed silent. There were still many things she didn't know, but those questions could wait. For now, she had a lot on her mind to think about.

—

"I feel like I have stepped into a different dimension," Makoto said to Kurama when they got off on their train stop. It was a Sunday afternoon, and the new school semester was starting that week. The streets were mostly quiet, and the loudest noise around was that of their suitcases rolling on the sidewalk. The same normality Makoto was low-key disgusted of seeing day after day felt oddly alien. All the presences she felt were so… human.

"Likewise," Kurama said. "I can hardly recall a longer week in my life."

"To be fair, you are getting in on the years," Makoto said in her usual dry tone.

There was a beat of silence before Kurama replied. "I refuse to go along with a taunt from a kid."

"My point exactly," Makoto said, feeling a bit smug. They were getting near her home. "What are you going to tell your mother when you get home?" She'd bet he had not given that much thought before leaving the previous week, given that he didn't expect to come back at all.

"That I had a great and constructive week at the mountains, doing sport and socializing with people my age," he said easily.

"Sometimes you are so perfect it's disgusting," Makoto said blandly.

Kurama took the remark as a compliment. "What are you going to tell your parents?"

"Not much. They do not expect me to talk." Her house was in sight.

" _Stop right there!_ "

Makoto released a weary sigh as they saw Fumi walk out of her courtyard and stalk her way up to Kurama. She stabbed her index finger in his coat, glaring daggers at him. "What's going on here and where did you take her?"

"He did not—"

"I'm talking to him, Mako! He's gotten you involved in some otherworldly crap, I know it, and I want to know what it is before I start ripping him a new one!"

"Fumi, calm down. The danger is over."

"I knew it!" She threw her hands in the air, then put them on her hips. "Who do you think you are, Mr. Nice Guy, dragging her into your messes?"

If Kurama had momentarily been taken aback by Fumi's appearance, Makoto had now the impression that he was actually amused by the situation. "I assure you that that was the furthest thing from my mind."

"Oh, yeah? Then why did she leave without telling me and gave her parents some random excuse about going to camp?"

Kurama looked quizzically at Makoto. "They will buy anything as long as they think I am talking to people," Makoto admitted darkly, then said to Fumiko, "I followed him along with a few others. Urameshi's mother, Kuwabara's sister…"

Fumiko deadpanned at Makoto, then said with a huff, "And _you_ dare complain about my afterschool acquaintances?" She slammed her hands on Makoto's shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Be honest with me, Mako. Are you trying to become a gangster? Is _he_ a gangster too?" She motioned with her head towards Kurama.

Makoto quietly removed one of Fumi's hands from her right shoulder, then patted Fumiko's shoulder hard enough to make her knees wobble, as if to make a point, and began explaining in a monotone, "Fumi. I went to five-star hotel in a private island where an underworld fighting tournament sponsored by crimelords was being held. This guy, Urameshi, Kuwabara and Master Genkai were forced to participate and fight for their lives against hordes of murderous demons. I went because I was worried and he stood me up instead of telling me he was leaving earlier because he's allergic to saying goodbye, and in the process I met the families of Urameshi, Kuwabara, and the son of King Enma. Botan was there too."

Fumiko stared at Makoto blankly for a moment, then said, "Oh," and a moment later, " _Oh_ ," and then, when everything had sunk in, she turned to Kurama, furious again, and said, "What does she mean you stood her up?! _How dare you!_ Do you think just because you are handsome you can do whatever you want?"

"I believe that this is my cue to leave," Kurama said amiably.

"Yes, it would be for the best."

"Not so fast! I'm not done with you, Minamino—"

"See you at school, Makoto."

"Bye."

"That's right, you run like a coward before I kick your ass to next Saturday!" She was yelling so loud that a couple of housewives had come out to peek out from behind her garden fences.

"It's all right, Fumi, I got him back for that."

"You did?"

"Gave him the scare of his life." Or the last fifteen years at any rate, she added to herself.

Fumiko grinned at her. "That's my girl." Then she hugged Makoto, and Makoto went stiff as a board until she registered that she wasn't under a surprise tickle attack. "You've gotta introduce me to your new friends, okay? I want to know them. Are they cool?"

It was her way of caring, Makoto realized. And to be honest, she had thought about Fumiko getting along with the rest of the girls. She'd probably like Shizuru, especially, and they were the same age.

Makoto smiled a little at Fumi. "Yes. Almost as much as you."


	13. Chapter 13

First of all, let me say that going by the general reaction, Fumiko stole the chapter with that appearance at the end and I'm equally glad and surprised that you like her so much. At some point I was laughing out loud every time a review mentioned her. You're all awesome.

And finally we'll be jumping into the Sensui saga! I'm really excited for this one. And while I'm starting to see the end of the fic in the far distance, a friend has been throwing sequel ideas at me for months, so something may come out of those yet. But for now, let's pick up the story where we left it!

 **Guest:** Thank you! I'll love anything you throw my way if you ever feel up to drawing more! Glad to see that Mako's and Fumi's friendship comes across strongly. Fumiko was so sidelined during the tournament that I had to make up for it somehow.

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

Even though the full brunt of the events didn't hit the others until mid-April, for Makoto it began about half a month earlier, the very next Saturday after she was back from the tournament, when as soon as she got out of class, she recruited Fumiko to go to the seedy joint where the half-demons she knew gathered.

Sitting at a table that she had made them clean before she dared touch it –and lo and behold, it hadn't been grey all along—, Makoto stared at the seemingly unending queue of half-demons she had in front of her. The bar was fuller than the last day she had been there, but Makoto was nothing if not a woman of her word, and if they wanted her to spend a few hours making up predictions, it was better than having them hound her on the street until she caved in. Her reputation at school was already strange enough without juvenile delinquents following her around.

She'd been at it for an hour, and she was bored out of her mind and growing restless because she wanted to be out as soon as possible. "You are profoundly unsatisfied with your life," she said with a blank expression to the young man sitting in front of her. "You are angry at your family and society for placing expectations on you that you cannot live up to, so you rebel against them by doing the exact opposite of what you should. And contrary to what you thought, it does not make you happy. It never will."

The bar fell into a deafening silence as she spoke and it lasted after she was done. She stared at the man in front of her until he got up without a word, and at the same time, a few people left the queue with an awkward gait and made themselves small on seats more hidden from view.

Good. That should have cut out ten minutes or so of this farce.

Back to back to Makoto, Fumiko was balancing in her own chair with her boots on a table. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and an oversized vermillion sweater, completing the look with lots of makeup, a perfect manicure, and a very bored expression. She kicked the table with a heel and called, "Next!"

Makoto watched with amusement as the next guy on the queue shot out from his spot and took a seat in front of her. He looked like he spent way too much time at the gym and too little sleeping. He steeled himself and put a hand, palm up, on the table. Makoto sent him a quizzical glance.

"Don't fortune tellers read hands?" He asked.

She sighed wearily, and feeling reticent but even more eager to get this over with, she took his hand to take a closer look.

 _One, two…_

It was a mistake.

 _She yelled and hit him, making him feel even smaller, more powerless, and when she broke down crying it was a man down the alley, just a human making fun of him thinking he had picked a fight he could win, but he'd show him—one of those disgusting bugs landed on him—the man's fingers stretched and wrapped around his neck, tight like a vice grip, and it was the same as before, as small and powerless as he closed in on him—his mouth opened like a snake's and he tried to scream but no sound came out, and then there was_ _ **nothing**_ _—_

"Mako!"

"Is she alive?"

"Holy shit—"

"What was that?"

When Makoto managed to focus her eyes again, Fumiko was hovering over her with a serious expression, and she was on the grimy floor of the bar while the onlookers whispered among themselves and stayed at a safe distance.

"Leave," she croaked out, sitting up with difficulty. She lifted her head, still dizzy from the vision, searching for the guy she had touched, and when she made him out she repeated, "Leave. You will die if you don't. You need to—" A sharp sting pierced her head as the images she had seen repeated over and over, and she held it in her hands as the pain slowly subsided.

Something didn't match. She'd seen him die, that much was clear, but there was the woman from before, and that human with strange powers, and there was something else.

The bug. That tiny flash was enough to convince her that the recurring dreams had been a warning all along, but she still was at a loss as for what they meant.

"Mako," Fumiko said kneeling beside her. "Can you get up? I'll get you home, you need to—"

"No," she said, stumbling to her feet, and Fumiko rose at the same time to guide her to a chair.

"Don't stare like dumbasses, get her a drink!"

Makoto was surprised to hear the clinking of glasses and that it wasn't Fumiko who had said it, but rather one of the guys. "Water," she said, still holding her head with an elbow propped on the table, before they tried to bring her something vile. She turned with a look of pain to the half-demon still sitting at the table. "Leave the city. Hide."

"What… what did you see?" He asked, although it was obvious that he didn't know if he wanted to hear the answer.

What had she seen, actually? She wasn't sure, but there was one undeniable part. Her eyes strayed to the table as she recalled the vision. "A man in an alley," she said, trying to piece the images together and put them in words that made sense. "You will get in a fight. You will think he is just a human, but you will die. He will…" What had happened? Everything had gone dark as the man's mouth had opened, and there was no other explanation – but there had to be; what kind of power was that? But if it was… "You'll be eaten."

Somebody dropped a glass of water on the table and frantic whispering overtook the room again. When she looked up, she saw it was Yosuke.

"W-what do you mean?" He asked. Makoto could see the fear in his eyes as he looked at her, as if she were responsible for what was going to happen. She _hated_ being stared at like that.

"What do you think she means?" Fumiko spat. "Go into hiding and don't pick fights with humans."

"Normal humans don't have powers like that—"

"Screw normal humans, even people like Urameshi can't pull shit like that," someone else chipped in.

Fumiko immediately began to walk up to the guy to get in his face. "If she says she's seen it then—"

"It's okay, Fumi," Makoto said. She looked in silence at her audience, still trying to make sense of what she had seen. "They are right. This should not be possible. And anyone with an ounce of awareness can tell if a human is using reiki."

"But you've seen it," Fumiko insisted.

"Yes. Which means something we know nothing about is going to happen." She lowered her eyes to the table and touched the spilled water. Even that small gesture grounded her a little more. She tried not to look at all the people staring at her. "I think we are all in danger," Makoto said. "I can only tell you to lay low. Do not take unnecessary risks. Wait for someone else to solve this."

She took a deep breath and released it slowly, finally bringing her head up, and sent an appraising look to every man present. "Next," she said, and her tongue felt like sandpaper, but she'd rather avoid drinking in that place, if she could. "If you dare."

—

"Are you sure you don't wanna go home?" Fumiko asked for the fourth time after they had left the bar. They didn't hold them up for long after Makoto had the premonition – not many people wanted to risk being the recipients of a similar one.

"Yes," Makoto replied. "And I promised I would introduce you. I cannot leave you hanging."

"We can meet another day," Fumiko argued, as if Makoto was being stubborn just for the sake of it, and she wasn't too far off the mark.

Still, Makoto almost said that maybe there wouldn't be another day soon, but that would have been grim even by her standards. Her bad feelings had been translating into awful things lately, but somehow everybody was pulling through them. She hoped that trend continued. "No need. The café is just around the corner, too."

"Whatever," Fumiko said with resignation. "But if you don't feel well—"

"Yes, mom. Ah, there they— _Fumi!_ " Makoto yelled, because right as she spotted Keiko, Shizuru and Botan behind the window of a coffee shop, Fumiko had pinched her cheek _hard_. She swatted the offending hand away, but they had already been seen.

"It's them?" Fumi said with a grin, unapologetic for the red mark shining bright on Makoto's face. "Wow, you sure know how to pick them cute."

The rest of the day was going to go swimmingly, Makoto thought.

—

Makoto got home after a long, long karaoke session that, she would admit, managed to stave off thoughts of the vision for a few hours. She went straight to bed only to fall into her favorite recurring dream, so used to it by now she was that it didn't have the impact it used to, but that helped her notice something she had overlooked for some time: the bugs she was seeing weren't like the ones that had plagued the city during the not-zombie apocalypse. She could make out countless types in her dream, while the ones she had encountered in person looked all the same.

She got out of bed dodging Doraemon, who had strategically positioned himself to trip her, and prepared to spend the rest of her weekend holed up home.

Her plans vanished when she reached the kitchen and found her mom washing dishes.

"Good morning!" Her mother greeted her. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," Makoto said, keeping her disappointment to herself.

"Go to the pharmacy to pick up dad's medicine for his migraine. We're running out."

"He's at it again?"

Her mom nodded. "And he says it's worse than usual. Yesterday he came early from work, even. Yours hasn't acted up, has it?" She asked, worried.

What doctors had diagnosed as a hereditary tendency to suffer from migraines was actually a side-effect of Makoto's ability, apparently triggered by picking too many signals at once, or signals so strong she couldn't deal with the input. The headaches got easier to manage as she grew older, but even if they hadn't, there wasn't anything plain medicine could do about it. She'd know. She had tried everything.

"Be right back," she said, crouching to get a piece of fruit from the cabinet and dodging out of the way of her mom.

"Hey! Have a proper breakfast!"

"Later." She wanted to get the errand out of the way before sitting down and getting ready to do nothing for the remainder of the day. Except homework. And maybe calling Kurama. Should she? She hadn't spoken much to him that week and she didn't want to worry him unnecessarily, but she was sure he could help piece together the information puzzle she had in her hands.

She was out of home when she realized with extreme disappointment that she had grabbed a peach, and that was only because she gagged when she bit off a piece. She was not thinking straight that morning.

She made it to the pharmacy, and was two streets away from home when somebody she detected someone running towards her from a side alley and she chucked the half-eaten peach at the threat.

Upon more relaxed inspection, the person she had attacked was a schoolmate, but no one could blame her for being twitchy.

"Oh. Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all.

But he didn't seem to care, even if the peach had stained his glasses. "Kodama! I know we have never talked before, but I urgently need your help! I beg you!" Then he got on his knees and lowered himself the ground.

Makoto, who was caught completely off guard by this chain of events, looked around to make sure no one was looking, and then at the boy. Meiou High's pride and literary genius Yuu Kaitou was bowing at her feet and making her feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Please, Kodama! You are my last recourse!"

Makoto would have been more inclined to help without all the desperation seeping through his pores, but seeing him in this state in light of how proudly he carried himself at school must have meant that this was a truly serious issue. She just hoped no nosy housewives were spying from the safety of their garden fences.

She sighed, weary, absolutely reticent but unable to shot his request down point blank. "Wait here. I'll drop this off at home and be back."

Ignoring the tiny voice at the back of her head telling her to run and never look back proved to be more difficult than anticipated, but in the end the empathy she had worked for years on squashing to no avail won out.

—

Makoto got chewed out for skipping breakfast again and left to accompany Kaitou to Mushiyori city. It wasn't a long way from her home, since her neighborhood was in the area that bridged Sarayashiki and Mushiyori. Meanwhile, Kaitou, despite how nervous he was, he managed to give her a rundown of his problem, and Makoto didn't want to think too thoroughly what 'last night a glowing yellow ball came out of my editor's chest and she froze in place' most likely meant, because solving that conundrum would be far beyond her ability. She didn't want to think, either, that he must have been stalking her neighborhood for hours looking for her, if he had indeed been looking for Makoto to ask for help.

When they arrived to his apartment, Makoto came face to face with a young woman sitting on the living room with a far gone expression, and the aforementioned yellow glowing ball floating in front of her.

Makoto approached her while Kaitou observed from a distance. The girl had no pulse, wasn't breathing, her eyes were wide open and she was rigid as a statue. Makoto tried to push the ball – the _soul_ – towards her, but it didn't work. She hadn't expected it to, anyway.

"I tried that many times," Kaitou said nervously. "Do-do you have any idea of what happened? Is she—"

"She is alive," she replied calmly. "But she may not be for long. You have separated her soul from her body."

"I-I—what are you saying, t-that's r-ridic—"

"It should be, for a human," Makoto said, remembering her vision from the day before, the man opening his mouth enough to dislocate his jaw. She stared at Kaitou analytically. She didn't sense any strange amounts of reiki emanating from him. "But somehow you did it. I need a phone."

Kaitou showed her to the phone of the small apartment, and she dug the agenda out of her purse to look for a number.

"Who are you going to call?" He asked, sounding unsure. Makoto thought he was probably worried about the police, and realized she should have said something sooner.

"Someone who can solve this, and someone we need to talk to," she replied, and dialed the number. In retrospect, she should have done this the day before as soon as she got home. Four tense ringtones passed before someone took the call. "Master Genkai, I'm Makoto. I am sorry to inconvenience you, but we need your help, and fast. We may have until night, at most, before someone dies. It should be solved in a moment if you could do us the favor."

Kaitou's face became green at the mention of dying. Genkai said something from the other side, and when the call was done, Makoto hung up and turned to face Kaitou.

"Now what?" He said with a small voice.

"Now we wait for a couple of hours," she said, and after glancing at her watch, she asked, "Can I have some tea? I bit an unpeeled peach and my mouth feels raspy."

—

When Genkai appeared, she wasn't alone. Makoto had thought it was strange that she didn't ask for more details during their phone conversation, but she had assumed she may have had an inkling of what was going on. Apparently, she had way more than just a vague idea.

Two boys, one with blonde hair, one with a purple not-quite mohawk, stepped into the room behind her, giving off an image of thuggish bodyguards she didn't need, but Kaitou didn't know that and they made him feel nervous when, in any case, his source of anxiety should have been the woman leading them.

Genkai's only display of surprise at the sight of the woman was a raised eyebrow. "I see," she said. "I can't say I didn't expect something like this, but it's strange, nonetheless."

"I could say the same," Makoto replied.

"What's that?" Blondie asked.

"A soul," said Master Genkai. "That's what they look like when they are outside of a body or a ghost." Then she turned to Kaitou. "Lay her on the floor, please. We can talk later."

It was an interesting experience, trying to explain to the reanimated girl what had happened to her, but she took it so well that Makoto suspected that she hadn't believed a word of it and now thought that Kaitou's friends were either crazy or on drugs. Whatever worked for her, she guessed.

By the time the editor was out the door with the manuscript she had come to get, Kaitou was looking more like the person Makoto was used to seeing in the hallways at school. "So you too suddenly acquired… psychic powers," he said to the other two guys, who had introduced themselves as Mitsunari Yanagisawa and Asato Kido. It was a statement, not a question, more for his benefit than anyone else's, as he seemed to be struggling to accept what had happened.

"They showed up at my doorstep today to consult me." Genkai said, sitting straight at the low table, prompting the rest of them to do the same. "It was a lucky coincidence that you happened to need help at the same time."

"Coincidence…?" Makoto mumbled, and Genkai glance at her, but didn't say anything.

"Our powers manifested just this week, too," Kido said. For someone who looked like a thug, he sounded very humble. "I found out that I could manipulate shadows."

"How? You don't seem any different than a normal human," Makoto said, and had to swallow her words, because suddenly a strange distortion extended from Kido, giving her the sensation of having stepped into another dimension, for a lack of a better comparison, and her gut feeling reminded her of the half-demon as the human's mouth got closer.

Kido put a hand on top of a part of Makoto's shadow, and when she tried to turn her head to look at what he was doing, she was unable to move it. "Stop that," she snapped, and her youki surged and figuratively slapped everybody in the face.

He took off his hand right away and the strange space receded. "Sorry."

"Easy, Makoto," Genkai warned.

"What did you do? Everything was the same, but at the same time... not? Like stepping into another plane. And…" Kaitou eyed Makoto warily.

"We call that area a territory. These boys are not the first ones who have come my way asking for help," Genkai explained, "but so far they are the ones with the most developed power. It seems that you are in the same boat," she told Kaitou. "And that power spike was Makoto here losing her temper."

Makoto looked down, embarrassed, and started fiddling with a loose hair strand.

Genkai didn't pay her any mind. "Are you aware of doing something like Kido before that girl's soul came out?"

"No," Kaitou said, straining to remember. "But, now that you mention it, I recall having an odd sensation for a moment."

"The territory's owner doesn't feel like he has stepped into a new place, but he feels it when he activates it," Kido intervened. "At least, that's been my case. And I haven't met anybody else with a wide territory to experiment."

"Mine is different," Yanagisawa said, pointing at himself. "I _am_ my territory. If I touch somebody, I can turn into them, copying them down to their fingerprints and memories. Want a demonstration?" He asked with a grin, but he was met with dead silence and a dearth of volunteers. "Anybody?" He tried again.

"What were you doing when your power first manifested?" Genkai asked Kaitou, ignoring the other boy.

He reached under the table to take a party game box featuring a face drawn on the lid and the word 'Taboo.'

"I've seen this one on TV!" Yanagisawa said. "How is it? I've been meaning to buy it."

Kaitou pushed up his glasses in reflex. "It's entertaining, but it isn't meant to be played only by two people. The goal is getting your teammates to guess the concept you are describing without using the forbidden words," he said, and going back to the original subject, he continued as he took out a stack of cards with words on it. "It's quite simple. It was her turn to guess, and after a few tries her soul left her body."

Genkai stared at the game pieces with interest. "Where's the card?"

"Here." He picked the one for 'bus,' and the list below included terms like 'car,' 'vehicle,' and 'wheel.'

So far, nothing strange seemed to happen.

"Did you say any of the taboo words?" Genkai asked.

"No. As a matter of fact, I was thinking very hard not to say them."

"All right, then do that again."

"Excuse me?"

" _Think_."

Kaitou looked at Genkai questioningly, but obeyed anyway if the intensity of the stare he sent to the card and the maroon tone his face was acquiring were any indication. Makoto was sure he'd start sweating soon.

Then, as if to reassure them that it was working, dimensions seemed to shift with Kaitou as the origin of the distortion. He appeared to have not noticed.

"Now, someone else, say one of the taboo words."

Makoto and the two boys stiffened. Genkai glared at them, "Are you deaf? Someone say a word already so we can get this over with!"

Going against her own survival instincts, Makoto made an effort not to obey, and she was in luck because the other two yelled, 'CAR!' at once, and immediately, their reiki flared around them, and out of their chests came their souls, who floated towards Kaitou.

"Well, that's one mystery solved," Genkai said, rolling up her sleeves. "Let's get to work. Makoto, I'm going to show you how to do this, just in case."

"Eh?" She squeaked, still on edge and not expecting to be talked to. "Can I?"

"This isn't like healing. It's a simple energy spark, like a jump starter. You can do that." Genkai moved next to Yanagisawa, pushed him to the floor, and put a fist above his heart. "Like this." And making it look incredibly simple, he bumped his chest as she sent a sudden energy wave into him. The soul found its way to his owner, and in an instant, a confused Yanagisawa was opening his eyes and scratching his head. "Man, that was weird. Did it work?" He asked.

Makoto made a sound that was half a sigh and half a whine, scooting closer to Kido and lowering him to the tatami as well. She'd either drive the soul back to the body, or drill a hole through his torso. "The dice are cast," she said somberly, and reminding herself to count to three, she punched a good measure of youki into his chest.

—

Makoto left Kaitou's home with orders from Genkai to keep what she knew a secret for the time being, including the vision Makoto had ended up telling them about after they figured out Kaitou's power.

Though Makoto was still unsettled, knowing that Master Genkai was aware of these strange happenings and working on the case made her feel more at ease. Her main worry had become, actually, hiding that stuff from Kurama.

Now, Makoto was aware that she was not an easy person to read, but they had known each other for some time already, and she was positive that if she stayed on her guard, he'd caught onto it even sooner. Master Genkai either didn't know what she was asking of her, or had way too much faith in her ability to keep a secret. And what if she was forced to lie? She did _not_ want to lie.

She arrived home that afternoon wallowing in self-defeat. He was going to find out. She knew.

Makoto didn't announce she was home in case it bothered her father, but when she passed the living room on the way upstairs, she saw him at the table with a peeled peach. Another reminder that her quiet day had turned into a series of major fails.

"Hi," she said quietly form the door. "Are you feeling better?"

"Hello!" He said, trying to sound happy, but he couldn't raise his voice much, and the tiredness was obvious in his demeanor. "Did you have fun out there?"

"Well," Makoto said, considering her words. "It proved not to be a waste of time."

He chuckled softly. "Was it Minamino?"

Makoto's dad had a gift to not make her feel attacked when he asked questions, contrary to her mom. "No, it was another schoolmate. We ran into each other outside."

He hummed with a peaceful smile. "As a parent, I feel compelled to tell you that it's your last year of high school and you should focus on your studies. But," he cut a piece of peach and said before popping it in his mouth, "your mom and I are glad that you're making friends. Honestly, we've been worried for years. If it weren't for Fumi, we don't know what we would've done with you."

Makoto's gaze fell to her feet, and she started fidgeting with the strap of her bag. Her hair cast a shadow over her face as she said. "Sorry. I did not mean to inconvenience you."

Her dad looked like a deer in the headlights the few seconds it took him to understand what had happened. "Mako, you have never bothered us. If anything, we have felt like you didn't let us do anything for you. Parents are supposed to worry about their kids. It's our job!" He smiled at her, and she felt much better upon seeing it, like he had shared a bit of his unending cheer with her. "Get out there and enjoy life! You're at that age. Just don't go overboard, all right?"

Makoto smiled back at her father, grateful, and doubting deep down that her biological mother had ever seen things that way, but that had never mattered. "For now I am going to get my homework done."

"That's my girl. Show all the teachers who's boss."

With one last glance, she headed upstairs to resume her original plan for the day. She only took double the usual time to finish her homework, which, considering how often she kept getting distracted by the weekend's events, she thought was nothing to sneeze at.

—

"You've been very quiet," Kurama said to her three days later, shamelessly ambushing her in an empty classroom the one time she forgot her pencil case, and if she took into account who she was dealing with and that she could have sworn she had put it in her bag, she was eighty per cent sure that that had been his doing too.

"You may have noticed during our prolonged acquaintance that I am a quiet person," she replied evenly, retrieving the case from under her desk.

"And snarky and irritable, too."

"I am not irritable," she said, irritated. Kurama smiled. He seemed happy, like a man who had taken a huge weight off his shoulders. She hadn't seen him like that for some time, now. He deserved the rest, and Makoto grew more annoyed when she thought that something mysterious was cooking and if it was bad the Spirit World would drag him into it again. So, before he noticed something odd with her mood, she decided to channel her hostility towards him, and pointed at him with the pencil case. "Do not steal my things."

His eyes were twinkling like he was trying to hold back laughter. "On what basis are you accusing me?"

"A terrible track record and a healthy dose of respect from our classmates."

"But they do speak to you now."

"Why do you need to remind me?" She said with a grimace, and when she put away the case she realized something. "You are just bored, aren't you?"

Kurama smiled at her with amusement. "You haven't gone running since we came back from the tournament."

He was right, and she didn't have much to say in her defense. "I was not in the mood, and I figured you weren't either." She took a quick glance around to make sure no one was listening. "How are your injuries?"

"Almost gone. And I've been able to conceal them at home and during P.E., thankfully."

"You have it the most difficult out of everybody," she commented offhandedly.

"It pays off," he said with complete sincerity, and Makoto was again amazed at how much he had to value his current life to think that putting up with all that pressure with no complaint was absolutely worth it. "What have you been up to?"

There came the moment of truth. She just had to distract him with something that piqued his curiosity. "Not much. Last weekend I introduced Fumiko to Shizuru, Keiko and Botan."

His eyes went wide for a second, but when he spoke he was the picture of composure. "Oh dear."

"Well…" Makoto tried to think of a good reply, but she couldn't deny the sentiment. "Well, yes. But Fumi was insistent."

He chuckled, probably remembering their last encounter. "Hopefully she got a better impression of them than me."

"Oh, that she did. She has already met up with Shizuru again, since they have free afternoons and she wanted a haircut." She looked casually at her own hair tips, thinking she should do the same soon.

"Do you miss having her at school?"

The question wasn't unexpected, but the tinge of concern in his voice was.

"Not yet," Makoto replied right away, because she had given some thought to it before. Honestly, she was aware that Fumiko graduating would have bothered her much more had she not become friends with Kurama. She would have been completely alone then, and either stayed like that the entire school year, or worse, been forced to socialize. "Give me some time."

"Take as much as you need," he said with a smile, apparently satisfied with her answer. "By the way, mom is wondering if you'd like to come home again. Now that Yusuke is back in the city, she has reverted to her original dinner plan. She'd like to do it before Kazuya and his son move in."

"I would love to," Makoto said honestly. She had missed seeing Ms. Minamino, and on a whole other level, she was a subject she could talk about freely without worrying about slipping up. "Tell me when she decides on the date."

"Will do." He turned to look at the door for a moment, and suggested, "Shall we head home?"

"Sure," Makoto said, "let's get you out of here before someone needs you urgently."

His smile faltered a bit, and his tone was not as friendly as usual. "The president of the biology club is becoming rather hard to dodge."

Makoto had to bite back a smirk. "Poor, poor you."

—

That weekend, Makoto made a trip to Genkai's temple at the master's request. She took the train alone and made her way to the mountains, not knowing what to expect, only that it had to be important if she had been asked to go.

When she arrived, the door to the house was open and Yanagisawa was already there, playing Street Fighter against Genkai and losing miserably.

Makoto smiled at that, and made sure she looked serious again when she said, "Resistance is futile. She is unbeatable."

Yanagisawa's life bar ran out and he motioned the controlled towards Makoto. "Wanna give it a try?"

"I know a losing battle when I see it." And she took a seat near them to watch the TV as they played. "Are we waiting for the other two?"

Genkai hummed as she mashed buttons with an enviable dexterity. Had she wanted, she could have probably made a living as a pro. "I've been arranging a few things during the week, and there's something I need your collaboration for." She pulled a perfect on the second round, and Yanagisawa changed characters to see if something else would work, the fool. "Or rather said, their collaboration. But I need you in on it too, because you have the ability to spoil the whole plan."

"That sounds… interesting."

Genkai smirked to herself. "Just wait until you hear it."

Anticipation and dread mixed inside Makoto's stomach, but Yanagisawa was unaware of her restlessness. "We need to do something soon. Things have gotten pretty bad during this week."

"How so?" Makoto asked.

"Mushiyori's infested by bugs," he said with a sigh. "And I don't mean flies or roaches, they're like—" He tried to make out a size with his hands, but Makoto cut him before he could continue.

"I know exactly how they are."

Genkai stared at her with interest. "You've seen them, haven't you?"

Makoto nodded, and asked Yanagisawa in a hurry, "How are normal people reacting? Last time it happened—"

"This has happened before?!"

Makoto looked at him expectantly until he took the hint and kept talking. "Nobody's noticed. It's damn creepy. There are more every day, but I think only people with territories can see them."

"No one has lost their minds?" Makoto said, just to make sure he wasn't skipping details.

Yanagisawa frowned. "What do you mean?"

If the city really was overrun and he hadn't noticed any strange behaviors, they definitely couldn't be the same bugs she had seen months ago in Sarayashiki. Makoto gave a quick glance to the TV and nudged her head towards it. "The battle is on."

Yanagisawa took a second to understand the non-sequitur, enough for Genkai to get the upper hand and relieve him of a third of his life bar. She gave no quarter.

"Leave the explanations for later," she said sternly. "There's no point in giving them twice."

Yanagisawa threw the controller at Makoto's lap after the round was over.

—

Genkai wanted them to play the bad guys and kidnap Yuusuke, then threaten Kurama, Kuwabara, and Hiei. Well, not them exactly, because ' _we can't count on all of them being dumb enough to buy that you'd betray them_ ,' had been her exact words. She just needed her to keep quiet and out of the way. And, on Monday evening, when the plan would be put into motion, at a place called the House of the Four Dimensions. She didn't need to do anything else.

 _Ha._

Makoto knew that the dread in the pit of her stomach when she'd seen Genkai smirk had been well justified.

She had decided as soon as she'd heard the news that she was going to skip school next week. The was no chance in any of hell's variations that she was going to risk even glancing Kurama's way while she kept something that big from him. Be it a founded fear or simple paranoia, Makoto had already felt like she was being suspected the last few times she had spoken to him, which had made her extra curt and thus fishier, and she wasn't going to give him a chance to figure the scheme through her. She refused to be caught in the middle of two masterminds' maneuvers, and far it be from her to underestimate Master Genkai's tactical abilities, but after getting to know him, Makoto would put her money on Kurama if they were pitted against each other.

When the meeting was over and the other three went on their merry ways to the train station, way too confident in themselves – except Kido, who had grown up hearing rumors of how much of a badass Yuusuke was, only to have them surpassed when Genkai and Makoto summarized the tournament for them, and his face turned into that of a man who was becoming intimately acquainted with true fear when he had been told it would be _his_ job to restrain Urameshi – Makoto made a small detour at the lake in the temple woods.

She walked to the edge, sat down, and, unsure if it was going to work, she said out loud, "Hello?"

No response. She threw a small pebble into the lake. _One, two, three_. On cue, bubbles began to raise from its depths, and in no time, a giant white-spotted char broke the surface and stared in Makoto's direction.

" _That was unnecessary_ ," a low, rumbling, bubbly voice spoke inside Makoto's head.

"You were not answering."

" _Do you throw rocks at your neighbors' windows when they aren't home?_ "

Talking to a telepathic giant fish was probably not even in the top five of weird things Makoto had done in the last three months, but it sure felt like it deserved the spot.

"I never throw bread at them either."

The char submerged, but Makoto followed the ripples to the shore, and when it resurfaced it wasn't a giant fish but Amemasu, doing something that looked like grabbing the water and pulling it over like a shawl. It solidified as they approached Makoto, leaning closer and staring at her with those characteristic round black eyes.

"You have an interesting smell about you."

Makoto's first reaction was to move her hans to her hair and wonder where she had gotten it stuck without noticing.

"Not that sort of smell," Amemasu clarified, holding back a grin. "Have you been anywhere..." The face turned pensive two fingers tapped their lips before saying, "No, that's just silly."

"What is?"

"You smell a bit like home, that's all."

Makoto returned the analyzing stare. "I thought this was your home."

They crossed their arms, weight shifting from one leg to another. "Hmm. I suppose so. It's been a while since I set up camp here."

"How long?" Makoto asked out of pure curiosity.

Amemasu's smile was cheeky. "Longer than this world remembers, kid."

In front of Makoto's eyes, with the backdrop of the lake and the mantle fluttering behind them with the cool wind, Amemasu looked ethereal, like a grey and silver mirage that may vanish from existence if she tried to touch it. They had seen ages come and go from that lake, humanity growing and learning and going forward and backwards for centuries while they remained unchanged.

Makoto wondered if she would see the world like that someday. She wondered if Kurama already saw it that way.

Amemasu's head tilted towards the sky, the dim blue of the evening only broken by a few stray clouds. "Something's moving."

"You can tell?"

"One can tell many things from here. That's why I like this place."

Calm, unsoiled, untamed, overflowing with power. Makoto knew what Amemasu meant. It was easier to become aware of the subtleties of the environment after spending some time there.

"There's danger brewing," Makoto said, though she didn't want to go into detail – didn't even know if it was safe to do so. "We are looking into it."

"'We?' Then there's no need to worry," Amemasu said with a satisfied expression, and when Makoto raised an eyebrow at that, joked, "I have never met a more stubborn group of people than those friends of yours. It's like not even fate can stop them."

"I can guarantee that," Makoto said, a hand idly playing with the grass around her, aware that she had held that same opinion for a while and it didn't bother her anymore. "They will steamroll it if necessary."

Amemasu simply kept smiling and returned to the water, leaving Makoto to her thoughts of what was to come.

—

It began as a subtle feeling as Makoto's train approached the city, the sensation that something was off, contrasting wildly with the atmosphere in the mountains. The disturbance grew stronger the more she approached civilization, but she had no way of knowing its origin, nor what it meant. It felt heavy, and it started to weigh progressively on her, like an unseen pressure. A headache started to creep on her, and when she reached her home by the evening, she dragged herself upstairs and straight to bed.

Someone opened the door to her room, but Makoto made no gesture to acknowledge the presence. "Are you okay?" She heard her mom ask.

"Headache," she replied.

"Are you coming up with a migraine too? Must be the weather change… Hold on, I'll get you something."

Makoto wanted to protest, but she couldn't reason why no medicine was going to help, so she let it go.

She had to wonder if the distortion had been so evident for a while and she just hadn't noticed because she had been inside it as it grew. Going to Genkai's place and entering the area again had made her aware of how wrong something was. There was no doubt in her mind that it had to be related to the sudden apparition of territories, and it all tied so seamlessly with the vision that she was sure that it was only a matter of days before all hell broke loose. It certainly felt like the situation had escalated nonstop since that afternoon at the bar.

And there was something else bothering her. Something about the distortion not feeling quite wrong, almost familiar, nostalgic even. She kept remembering the bugs of her dreams, of the vision, of the Four Saint Beasts incident, of the ones infesting Mushiyori. Kurama had said those were Demon World insects. Were the ones in her dreams too? How had they gotten to the Human World? How dire was the situation, if regular humans were being affected by the distortion already?

Her mom came back with pills and water, and when Makoto reached out for them, her hands brushed.

 _She knew he had liked her for some time, because Hideki wasn't the sort of boy who could hide things, but she had never thought he'd have the courage to say it to her, and she was so embarrassed she didn't know what to do so she turned him down, because that would be easier for everybody—_

"—koto? Makoto, are you all right?"

Makoto blinked once, twice, three times, and the images dissolved into the darkness of the room as her eyes came back into focus.

"Yes. I spaced out," she replied, swallowing the pills with a gulp of water quickly.

"Okay. Sleep, and call me if you need anything. I'll leave Doraemon out today so he doesn't bother you."

"He does not bother me."

Her mom snickered. "Goodnight, dear."

"Night."

The door closed behind her mother, and Makoto lay back on her bed, trying to understand what had happened and coming up only with one answer.

She had just seen the past.


	14. Chapter 14

New chapter! I'm having a lot of fun with the change of pace since the tournament. There are things I've wanted to write for a while that are coming into play during this saga...

On another note, last night I uploaded to my blog a few more photos of the YYH cosplay group I was part of last year. You can check them out at **tackyink** dot **tumblr** dot **com**. There's a link in my profile if you'd rather copy and paste the url instead of typing it. I post updates and comments about the fic there, and you can send me any questions you'd like, so that's a plus if you want to follow, I guess?

And thank you so much for sticking to this story until now! You are the best!

 **Guest:** Thank you! Take all the time you want, I'm already really happy knowing you consider this story worth drawing fanart for. This chapter features the president of the biology club and more Kurama, so I hope it delivers!

 **Edit - A note about this chapter's upload:** Since a reader asked (sorry, I can't reply to you if you aren't logged in...), this site was glitching when I uploaded this chapter and new chapter alerts weren't sent. It's been this way for over a week. Aside from that, the glitch is also making it so that the updated stories aren't immediately bumped to the top of the front page.

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

Makoto's splitting headache subsided on Sunday at the same rate her dad's migraine grew, which meant that she didn't have a legit excuse to stay home on Monday. Not that such a measly roadblock was going to stop her. She'd already had the foresight ( _ha_ ) to account for that possibility.

She'd leave her home with regular clothes tucked in her schoolbag, change into them as soon as she could slip into a public bathroom so she wouldn't stand out to police officers, and find a payphone to call Meiou posing as her mom to tell them she wasn't feeling well.

It was a perfect plan, because it wasn't like she was _really_ lying. She was by no means feeling well. Whether that was the consequence of a health issue or the perspective of having to lie to Kurama with a straight face and somehow make it work was another matter entirely.

It would _not_ work.

Hence, she had concocted this scheme to avoid being in his near vicinity.

Makoto wondered why exactly not lying to Kurama had become a higher priority than not deceiving her parents, and decided that it most likely had to do with the fact that there was a lot of greenery in her high school.

But things couldn't go so smoothly. Somehow, because for the life of her she couldn't figure out how it happened, the plan went out the window when she passed by the kitchen, where her father was nursing a chamomile tea with an ill face. He still forced a kind smile for her daughter when she saw her.

"You're going to school today, right?" He asked.

Makoto found herself relaxing and mirroring his expression, all nerves forgotten in his company. "Yes."

He nodded weakly, like every movement was painful. "Have a nice day, Mako."

"Thanks. Get a lot of rest."

And she walked out, chipperly skipping down the street on her way to Meiou, still smiling.

The horror of what she had done only dawned on her when she was a couple of blocks away from the school, had crossed paths with many of her classmates, and had terrified a few of them with her display of unprovoked happiness.

She felt him approach, like she did most of the time, and she knew that she was doomed. She had failed herself, Master Genkai, and all her ancestors in one fell swoop.

"Good morning, Makoto," Kurama said, blissfully unaware that Makoto was watching her life flash before her eyes. He did a double take when he saw her face. "Are you all right?"

"I had a migraine this weekend," she said with a pasty mouth.

"You don't look well," he said, and he sounded concerned. Concern could be a distraction from the actual issue or an excuse to dig for more. It could go both ways, and Makoto didn't want to know which one it would be. "Perhaps you should have stayed home."

"Definitely," she said, looking at the ground and gripping her bag's handle with both hands and tapping on it. Noticing she was acting awkward, at once she looked up and let go with a hand, trying to act casual. Kurama's stare went from concerned to confused, and only then Makoto realized that she _was_ awkward and not acting like it made her look more suspicious.

The sudden bag movement made Kurama glance at it, and his eyes lingered a little too long on it. Makoto didn't like the suspicious edge to his voice when he said, "What's in your bag?"

Makoto, slowly, doing her best so her panic didn't show through her eyes, looked at her schoolbag. Since it had clothes, not books, the shape it took was marginally different than it would normally. Which wouldn't have been detectable had she not brought attention to the bag herself, and had the other person not been Kurama.

"Today's material," she said, trying to sound polite, then realizing to her horror that sounding pleasant could be working against her again. She was supposed be annoyed by all the questions, right? Tired from a bad weekend? How would she react on a regular day? Was she really this salty all the time? Who was she, really? Was this the time and place to have an identity crisis?

Whatever the case, the way Kurama's eyes narrowed sent a chill down her spine. Makoto just tried to look anywhere but at him. The pokerface she had been perfecting for sixteen years threatened to crumble down spectacularly.

"Makoto," he began, and she had never in her life been so jumpy at a mention of her name. He didn't seem to be mad, but he sounded colder than usual, "Can you look at me for a second?"

Her answer was quick, definitive, absolutely sincere, "No."

Kurama frowned, looking mildly indignant, and just as Makoto was about to give up, a miracle happened.

"Minamino!"

Makoto turned around to look at the source of the voice, and in the split second it took her to see the biology club president running towards them at the speed of light, Kurama had disappeared from her side and probably jumped into some bushes.

Makoto said a little thank you prayer for the boy as he too ran into the school grounds. Go, president, go. Never stop chasing your dreams.

—

"I thought my life was over," Makoto confessed, several hours later, after the nurse gave her permission to go back home and she was safe behind the doors of the House of the Four Dimensions.

It was a good thing that Master Genkai had already gotten there, too, because she didn't understand how that house worked. One would think that an architect wouldn't think three locked doors and seven staircases going up to the same room were necessary, and one would have been wrong.

Genkai's brow was knit, not too lightly, not too deeply, just the necessary amount to convey how unimpressed, disappointed, and overall done with dealing with teens she was. Makoto knew what she was seeing in those eyes. ' _I thought you were smarter than that_.' Over a decade of her life meticulously spent trying not to let this woman down, and thanks to Kurama existing her efforts had gone to waste.

"I take back what I said about your new influences doing you good. Yuusuke is rubbing off on you for the worse," Genkai said, though she sounded more resigned than irritated. "Did you give me away?"

"No!" Makoto hurried to say.

Genkai shook her head. "We'll see when they get here."

Makoto was so embarrassed that getting swallowed by the floor seemed like a fantastic thing to hope for, and she kept twisting around the beads of her glasses' chain to keep her nerves under control. But as much as she wanted to flee and hide somewhere she wouldn't be subjected to that reproachful stare, she had something else to tell Genkai.

"Something happened yesterday," she began, speaking quietly, and Genkai's expression softened. "I had a vision when I touched mom."

"Did you see something happening to her?"

"I saw her past through her eyes," Makoto said. "It was only a moment, but there was dad, too, and he was much younger. That is how I knew it was not a premonition."

Genkai remained silent for a few thoughtful seconds. "Well," she said at last, not sounding the least bit concerned, and she shrugged. "Try not to touch me. I'd like to keep some things confidential."

Makoto's eyes widened and her mouth opened involuntarily. "That's all?"

"What else do you want me to say? You are only sixteen, you have surrounded yourself with demons and humans with high spiritual awareness, and there's something awakening hidden potential in spiritual potatoes. Did you honestly expect your powers to remain the same for the rest of your life?"

When she looked at it that way, Makoto felt silly. Again.

"Of course. You are right," she said awkwardly. It didn't make the situation any less alarming for Makoto, but Genkai's argument was perfectly logical. She wanted to think she'd have reasoned the same on a better week. The beads were starting to slip from her sweaty grasp. "I will go help the others," she whispered, and made a swift tactical retreat from the older woman before she could feel any dumber.

She heard Genkai cluck her tongue as she retreated to the lower floor, where Kaitou was supposed to wait to set the plan in motion. A wave of hot air hit her on the face as she opened the door to the hall, and inside she found her schoolmate moving plant pots.

"What are you doing?" She asked, unsure what she was looking at.

He didn't look up from his plants when he replied, "I am setting up the stage for my duel with Minamino." His matter-of-fact tone contrasted with the dramatic statement.

Makoto's usually impassive face twitched and her lips parted slightly. There were a few seconds of silence, which Kaitou didn't seem to mind at all, before she asked with honest-to-God curiosity, "Do you have a death wish?"

Kaitou put down near a chair the succulent he was holding and turned to face Makoto, readjusted his glasses and asked, "Why would you ask?"

Makoto glanced quickly at the room just to make sure the plants were there, because her day had been so weird so far that she didn't even trust her eyes anymore. Upon inspection, they were still there, so she supposed she wasn't hallucinating them.

She wasn't a fan of stating the obvious, but she had answer, she supposed. "We told you he can manipulate plants," There was no point in explaining more.

"I'm aware of that."

"He can turn them into literal weapons," she insisted, because surely he must have misunderstood something if he meant to lock himself in a room full of plants with Kurama and proceed to threaten him and his friends.

"Don't patronize me," he said, proud streak and chip on his shoulder showing. "I know that perfectly well. My only intention is to even the playing field."

"You have lost me," she said, not because he really had, but because his naiveté was unbelievable.

Contrary to what she had expected, he did not talk to her like she was stupid, which taking into account the day she was having was something she valued. "Minamino will be inside my territory, and I want a fair confrontation against him. To seize victory merely because I caught him unprepared would feel the same as a defeat."

She stared at him with as much pity as she had looked at Kurama back in that café when she was being used as a mailwoman. The words 'fair' and 'unprepared' didn't belong in any conversation about him, and she made it known. "You cannot have a fair battle. He will not play fair."

"He can't harm me, and if I were to fail I assume I would lose my soul, which either you or Master Genkai would be able to return to my body. But that won't come to pass, so what is the worst that can happen?"

It was that last part what made his attitude click in Makoto's mind. Although they were the same age, though he had seen just a few days ago how dearly a small mistake could cost him, now Makoto could only see in front of her a kid who still didn't know what kind of world he had unwillingly stepped into, just like Yuusuke and Kuwabara had been. Life or death situations were alien to him. He understood the theory, but not the reality of them. Lots of people would be learning new things that evening, it seemed.

She gave him a compassionate look she didn't know he was capable of, creeping him out slightly, lowered her eyes, and walked to a few planters that were still out of place. "I will move these for you. Tell me where they go."

He blinked a couple of times in confusion, probably wondering what had gotten into her all of a sudden. "There is no need, Kodama, I can… do…" The sentence died in his lips when she lifted one of the big planters and held it under one arm like someone would carry a binder.

"Hurry up. It is a little heavy," she said.

"Oh. Um." His usual eloquence seemed to be momentarily gone. "Put that one near the hallway, please."

And with a small nod, Makoto proceeded to do a little kindness for a soon to be dead man. Some things she didn't need to see the future to know.

—

"There they are," Genkai said comfortably from her chair, watching the CCTV feed from the first floor.

Makoto was with her on a small room adjacent to one where Yuusuke was being held hostage. She scooted closer to look at the screen. "Botan, too?"

"It won't make any difference," Genkai sentenced.

She was of the same opinion, but her presence in the building made Makoto uneasy all the same.

It wasn't long before Hiei and Kuwabara were getting in Kaitou's face. That boy didn't know how much he had lucked out with his territory when Hiei's katana split against the barrier around him.

Makoto would give him cookie points for staring right at the face of death and not flinching, though. He even kept provoking Hiei, until—

"No," Makoto whined.

Kaitou goaded him into saying the taboo word, and Hiei seemed dangerously close to comply.

Genkai snorted. "Watch him go."

Makoto said with utter conviction,"He will not be so dumb to—"

"Do you want to bet?"

Like those times one sees a disaster happen in slow motion, Makoto watched with surprise, disbelief and utter disappointment, in this succession, how Hiei said the word 'hot' and his soul was ejected from his body.

Genkai shook her head with a contained sigh, and Makoto facepalmed and refused to look for a while. To think she had admired him when she saw him fight at the tournament. She had been rooting for Hiei. This felt like betrayal of the highest caliber. And she thought in passing, too, that at least Yukina wasn't watching this one, because that would have been the pinnacle of shame.

As they had expected, Kuwabara and Botan were the next to fall to the taboo's power, until only Kaitou and Kurama remained.

"Kaitou was looking for this from the start," Makoto told Genkai.

"The world is full of suckers, Makoto," Genkai said very seriously. "The sooner you learn this, the sooner you'll learn not to be one of them."

Makoto looked at Genkai incredulously, because she sure was being cynical when she'd been the one to enlist the help of three teenagers who really didn't know better, but she didn't reply to that and kept watching.

Time passed. Kurama came up with the idea to change the rules so a syllable became unusable every minute. That put them on a time limit of forty-six minutes. Makoto was thankful for that, because she felt bad for tricking the guys like this, and she wanted to be able to explain as soon as possible. She guessed she was a sucker, too.

She was also very thankful that she wasn't on the receiving end of Kurama's glare, and idly mused that Kaitou either was drastically overestimating his capabilities or was much braver than she was giving him credit for.

At some point right before the deadline, Kaitou went to the bathroom, and the plants in the room began to grow until they filled it completely, even obscuring part of the camera feed. The room had become a jungle, and Kaitou was going to have to step into that.

With a curt sigh, Makoto rose from her chair, readjusting the blue jeans and grey long-sleeved shirt she had changed into when she had been freed from school, took a walkie-talkie from a table, and began to make her way to the maze of stairs that connected the first and second floors.

"Aren't you going to watching until the end?" Genkai asked, glancing at her over her shoulder.

"No need. The winner is clear," she said. Not like there had been any doubt in her mind from the start, but still.

"Suit yourself."

Makoto nodded, left through a door that didn't lead to where Yuusuke was being held, and snuck into the place with the staircases, careful to choose a hiding spot from where she could see but not be seen.

—

Static buzzed through the walkie-talkie's speakers for a couple of seconds and Yanagisawa's voice came through. "He took the second staircase."

"Understood," she replied, and she began to move in that direction. Nobody was in sight yet, but that was to be expected. If stepping inside a territory felt like being in another dimension while everything looked normal, that space felt normal and looked anything but. Stairs went up and down and sideways, and it was a good thing that Makoto had gotten there the earliest of all of Genkai's helpers, so she had been able to memorize a few paths she could take to the doors downstairs.

I wasn't long until she saw Kuwabara unknowingly walking towards where she was. She came out of the shadows, but distracted as he was by the strange path he didn't notice her until she said, "Hey."

He immediately left out a shriek and pointed a fist towards her. Makoto observed it curiously, wondering why his sword wasn't coming out. As soon as he got over the scare, though, he lowered his arm and hurried to ask, alarmed, "Makoto! Did they get you too? Do you need help?"

Makoto didn't think she was a sentimental person, but his honest concern went straight to her heart. He hadn't thought for a second that she may have been involved in the plot to kidnap Yuusuke, even when she stood there unharmed, perfectly calm and in a very secluded and convenient location to attack him without the others knowing. Kuwabara was too good for words.

But it wasn't the time to dwell on that, so without wasting a second, she launched into a short explanation. "This is all a setup of Master Genkai's. We need your help to trick Yuusuke one last time before she reveals what is going on."

"What?! You're telling me these guys are acting on Master Genkai's orders?!"

Makoto nodded serenely. "There is not much time left. Will you help?"

She didn't need to wait much for Kuwabara to flash a grin at her and reply, "I can't say no to getting one over Urameshi."

Her lips quirked the smallest bit. "I thought as much." Her expression turned back to stony. "Quickly, go back to the first floor, let Yanagisawa touch you and change into your clothes, and come back here. I will show you to Master Genkai."

Kuwabara did as told without complaint, even though he gave her a strange look, and ran back to where he had come from. When he showed up again, skipping steps along the way, he seemed to be freaking out majorly. He was also wearing white boxers with a colorful pattern and Makoto had to make an effort not to smile. "THAT GUY TRANSFORMED INTO ME!"

Makoto took a glance at the bottom and saw a perfect copy of Kuwabara making his way up. His energy even felt the same. Creepy.

"Yo!" Yanagisawa saluted them as he went by. "Good job, both of you!"

Makoto gave him a thumbs up, and said to Kuwabara, "Let us go. This will be done in ten minutes."

Makoto hurried along the steps with Kuwabara close behind, and soon she was back in the room with the surveillance monitor and Genkai, looking utterly bored now that the only thing onscreen was Kaitou lying on the floor, frozen mid-laugh and pointing at something that must have been incredibly funny. She took note to ask him later what Kurama had done to prompt that reaction.

"About time you got here."

"We went as fast as we—"

"Master Genkai!" Kuwabara interrupted her, and he would have looked menacing to a stranger watching the scene, but this was Kuwabara and Genkai that Makoto was watching, and he was in his underwear and she was, well, Genkai, so worrying wasn't one of her priorities. If there was something in common between their entire ragtag group, it was that everybody had an unending respect for the master. "Why did you trick us?"

Genkai scratched her ear and said dismissively, "I wanted to prove a point, teach you a lesson, and give you some interesting news at once. I won't say more until we're done with this farce."

That seemed to be enough for Kuwabara to settle down. "Okay." He took a seat on Makoto's previous chair, crossed his arms, and tried to look dignified. "So what's the plan right now?"

"Yanagisawa will pose as you and we'll make Yuusuke figure out who is the imposter."

Kuwabara made a panicked face. "Are you sure he'll get it right?"

"Nope."

"Then what is the point of this?!"

Genkai wagged a finger at him. "Later, boy. Don't be so impatient."

Smiling on the inside, Makoto took one last glance at them and walked quietly to the door that led where Yuusuke was to eavesdrop on the argument at the other side.

—

A spotlight after a spotlight after a spotlight and Master Genkai stepped out into the room where the others had gathered. Makoto, who just became aware that she had dreamed of that weeks ago, followed her as a furious Yuusuke began to hurl complaints at his master. Apparently too insignificant a target, Makoto was spared from the verbal abuse as she stood to the side and let Yuusuke and Genkai bicker. And she was lucky, too, because even Hiei suffered some collateral damage to his ego as Genkai told them why she had staged the kidnapping.

She then revealed that the strange happenings of the past few weeks were due to someone trying to open a tunnel to the Demon World in Mushiyori. It didn't seem to come as a surprise to Kido or Yanagisawa, but Makoto stared at her astounded and wondering why she had kept that incredibly important detail from her if she had obviously known for some time.

"You were the weak link in the plan," she said with as much tact as she regularly employed. "The less you knew, the lesser the risk of discovery."

Makoto didn't have time to verbalize how betrayed she felt, because in that instant a communication alert got through to Botan, and she opened the metal case she was carrying to reveal a screen inside. Koenma was on the other side, and despite the panicked frenzy he was in, he seemed pleased that everybody was gathered in the same place.

Makoto had had a bad feeling since she had seen Botan arrive to the house, but now that the Spirit World had contacted them directly, there was no denying that the situation had to be serious.

On one hand, in the explanation that followed, they confirmed what Genkai had already found out about the origin of the strange disturbances, the bugs, and the awakening of reiki in humans, and it was official that the tunnel was already in its second phase and big enough to start affecting humans.

On the other, Koenma managed to anger Hiei – who was already acting more skittish than usual since his earlier blunder – enough to storm off the house declaring that he wasn't going to help this time around.

Makoto couldn't blame him for refusing to cooperate with the Spirit World or wanting to return to the Demon World, but she thought it was a jerk move all the same.

Was she judging him too harshly? Perhaps. While she was usually one to stick to her own business and leave the rest to their own, she was already involved in the matter and Hiei's absence would likely create more work for everybody. Also, he had thoroughly broken her bitter heart by falling right into Kaitou's trap in the most avoidable way, and it wasn't everybody else's fault that he was still embarrassed about it.

Besides, she had been called the _weak link_ of the plan. As far as she was concerned, if anyone had a right to be sour and leave them to their luck, it was _her_.

Koenma's briefing was over soon and left them with an alarming amount of unanswered questions. Who was opening the tunnel? Why? Were they alone? Who would have the resources to do it, in the first place? Did they have anything to do with Sakyou, or was it a sinister coincidence?

Once Koenma hung up, the group followed Master Genkai when she went to resuscitate Kaitou, and they all decided to sleep over at the house and head to Mushiyori in the morning. Makoto had already called home in the evening to say she was staying over at Keiko's. Her mom had protested at first, but her dad had said something Makoto didn't pick up, and suddenly her mom sounded much more amenable to the idea. Probably the usual argument about letting her make friends.

The house had more bedrooms than doors, which was saying something, and also a grave design decision, so somehow Yuusuke and Kuwabara wound up in a near fistfight about the beds. Kurama took that opportunity to approach Makoto.

"You are a terrible actress," Kurama told her.

"Not all the time." She was quite good at lying to her parents, for instance, which wasn't anything to be proud of. "How long have you been suspecting me?" Makoto's expression was knowing and long-suffering.

Kurama crossed his arms and mused for a few seconds before replying, "I thought something was up when you didn't notice me walk up to you the other day. You usually make a point to stay alert."

She lifted an eyebrow. "And yet you keep trying to sneak up on me."

"It's nothing personal. I do it to Hiei too."

Makoto absentmindedly started to fiddle with the sleeves of her shirt as she said, dejected, "My own fox radar turned against me."

Kurama let out a small chuckle. "If it's any consolation, I wouldn't have imagined that seeing you skipping on the way to school had anything to do with a tunnel to another world."

Leave it to Kurama to make another jab at her while he tried to console her. She looked at the floor and said tiredly, "My last forty-eight hours have been absurd."

"How so?"

"Do you want me to explain from the start or in reverse chronological order?"

Kurama pondered his answer, probably because he wasn't sure at first if the question was serious. It very much was. "Ranked by importance?"

"Two days ago I visited Master Genkai at her temple, and after being in the mountains for hours, I could feel the spatial distortion coming from Mushiyori as soon as the train approached the city. It gave me an excruciating headache. Then I got home and I saw the past."

That last bit managed to surprise him. "How? Was it a vision, or…?"

"Pretty much the same as when I see into the future. I only realized it was the past because I recognized someone in what little I saw."

"It must be related to the influence of the tunnel. Perhaps it was a dormant capability you had, and it has surfaced with the concentrations of unusual energy nearby," he theorized. "Have you only experienced it one time?"

Makoto had just told him, and he was already invested in figuring out what had happened to her. She felt a mix of relief and gratefulness inside her. As much as Genkai was able to calm her by making her see that no, the world wasn't ending just because she'd had an odd vision, she had missed having an actual discussion with someone. "Yes. There is a chance that this will only be a one-off thing and I am making a mountain out of a molehill, but…" She trailed off, remembering the vision she'd had at the bar two weeks before. She had seen through the eyes of that half-demon, but there was a part she hadn't understood. A woman, much taller than him, and the way he held himself and thought about the other encounter… Had he been a child in at the beginning of the vision? How long had she been getting warnings that she had ignored?

"From your face, I'd say you have stumbled upon something."

This was precisely why she liked to use Kurama as a sounding board. He was curious, he asked questions, he never ceased looking for ways to solve the mystery.

"I think this weekend's vision may have been the second," she said as she forced her mind to remember more details to compare.

He observed Makoto with interest, as if she was an intriguing code to crack. It was reminiscent of the time when they had started talking and bombarded her with questions about her foresight. "Do you think there is a specific trigger, or is it like your premonitions?"

"Touch may be a factor. But it seems random." She didn't have enough instances to compare. "I should be having visions all the time if it happened every time I came in contact with somebody."

"It's something to consider, at any rate," he said, and peered curiously at her. "How are you taking it?"

"Unwillingly," she said in a dryly, and Kurama's mouth twitched.

"It's a development with lots of potential."

"Shifting through people's memories somehow feels even less ethical than seeing their future." Truthfully, Makoto didn't dwell much on the rights and wrongs of randomly intruding a stranger's future memories, but this situation had acted as a wake-up call of sorts. She suspected she wouldn't have cared as much if she had seen the past of someone unimportant to her, but that hadn't been the case.

He didn't seem to be expecting her reply. "As long as that's the only drawback, I'd say it's a net win."

"Only drawback?" She said in disbelief. Surely he could see how problematic her new ability could be for others. "I could breach your privacy at any given moment. Would you like that?"

He considered his words while he took in her expression of discomfort. "That isn't your problem. Having access to more information with no added handicaps will always be positive for you."

Makoto furrowed her brow a fraction. "That isn't what I asked."

"You asked two questions," he countered.

Makoto blinked at him, disoriented, until she realized she had, indeed, though he had latched onto the rhetorical one instead of the one she meant to be answered. "True," she admitted dispassionately.

Something about the delivery made Kurama smile. "As for the second one, I wouldn't really mind, since it isn't something you can do on purpose."

Makoto's mouth tightened a little and she said with disdain as she looked another way. "I will pretend that was a straight answer." But it was, maybe, what she had wanted to hear. He had a penchant for doing that.

"I appreciate the courtesy," he said in a joking tone. "At any rate, I see how you may have been distraught this morning if you were worried about this."

"That was not the reason."

"Oh?" He cocked her head a bit to the side. Makoto had the sudden realization that the only hair that shifted were the locks at the front. _Now_ she knew how the rest stayed in place.

She kept the observation to herself. "I was not supposed to go to school."

"Skipping class to help Master Genkai?"

She started wrapping a lock of hair around her index finger as she tried to look anywhere but at him. "I was trying not to talk to you until the plan was carried out."

"Ah, so you were afraid I'd find out?" He asked, regardless of knowing that he was right.

Makoto turned her nose. "Wipe that smug look off your face. I just wanted to reduce risks."

Kurama's expression relaxed into something more amicable. "Then why did you come to school anyway?"

She let go of her hair and gave him the thousand yard stare. "I don't know. I had planned out what I was going to do, but when I left home I ended up walking towards Meiou, and I was not aware of what I had done until it was too late."

Kurama looked as baffled as her. "Maybe you walked that way unconsciously? You do it every morning."

She shot him the kind of dirty glare she reserved for when he got injured for stalling. "Kurama. I am not that royally stupid."

"We all have bad days," he said with a shaky smile.

"Stop that." She rubbed a spot on her forehead where yet another headache was starting to grow. "Something unnatural happened. There is no other explanation."

Kurama took her assessment on faith and began looking for other options. "Maybe there is a territory user near you?"

Makoto frowned, letting her hand drop to her side. "Those are only appearing in Mushiyori, as far as we know. Besides, I would have noticed if I had stepped inside of one."

"Hmm. We don't leave too far from Mushiyori, though." He covered his mouth with a hand, resting the elbow on the other. "No demonic presences nearby, I assume?"

"None."

"Could it be related to the power you're awakening?"

She stiffened. "I hope not," she said, sounding uncharacteristically rattled. "The last thing I need is losing control of my mind." Because what had she been doing all these years, if not trying to exercise control over herself all the time? Tone down her energy to pass unnoticed. Stabilize it to make it usable. Learn to automatically sort between the important signals, the irrelevant ones, and what was actually in front of her. It showed in the way she spoke, in the way she squeezed the hem of her sweaters or fiddled with the chain of her glasses to keep her body busy while her mind worked in overdrive to keep it all in check. That external factors, completely outside of her scope, could affect the painstakingly attained grip she had on herself bothered her more than she could say, so she didn't tell him. Instead, she let out a deep sigh and deflated. "Too many things in a short time. And now there's the tunnel."

"There's the tunnel," Kurama echoed gravely. "Be on the lookout for anything strange. We don't know how much it will affect the Human World, if it has the magnitude Koenma said."

Makoto recalled a conversation they'd had during the tournament, when things had looked much direr for them. She showed the smallest of smiles, weary, but still appreciative. "Who is being fatalistic, now?"

Kurama's eyebrows went up at and smiled a bit himself, but his reply never came before someone else demanded Makoto's attention.

"Mako!" Botan yelled from a ways away, waving at her. "I'm going to bed! Are you coming too?"

"Yes." She spared one last glance at Kurama, "Sleep well. Tomorrow could be a long day."

"Goodnight, Mako."

It didn't sink in that Kurama had called her by her nickname again until she was in her room with Botan, under the covers of her bed, mulling over everything that had happened that day.


	15. Chapter 15

**An important note:** When I uploaded chapter 14, the site was glitching and as a result the email alerts for the new chapter weren't sent. If you rely on them to know when this fic updates, then you might have missed the last chapter, so if that's the case please go back and check it out before this one!

I'll be replying to the reviews I haven't gotten to yet between tonight and tomorrow, but I wanted to get this chapter up today. Like when the Dark Tournament saga was over, I'll be working for a few weeks on my One Piece fic, then I'll be back to this. Meanwhile, as always, you can find me on my blog at **tackyink dot tumblr dot com** for any questions/comments/etc.

There's a section of this chapter that was a nightmare to write and I very much hope that it reads well. It was, ironically, written while I was keeping a family member company at the hospital (everything went A-okay, for the record!). It also sucked, so I rewrote it three times. And I had to cut short the scene that came right after it because the chapter was getting too long and it wasn't going to add anything of substance.

Ah, right. This is the longest chapter to date, I believe.

 **Mia:** I don't know if you saw my edit on the latest chapter, but the glitch I mentioned above was going on when I updated chapter 14. It went on for a few days, but it's thankfully fixed now.

 **Guest:** _Oh my God_. I cracked up so badly when I saw your picture of Makoto. You got her perfectly. That unimpressed face, that salt, that everything. Thanks a ton! That drawing has been the highlight of many sucky days.

 **Kalmaegi:** Hey, Mako has the right to be dramatic with the days she's having! And don't worry about reading late, I'm glad you noticed the update at all with the fit this site was having. ;u;

 **YuYu4Ever:** Haha, Genkai's comment has had way more success than I anticipated…

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

No amount of prophetic dreams could have prepared Makoto for the image that greeted their group when they got to Mushiyori. The insects were everywhere; warped and oversized versions of the ones in the Human World, and they filled the city as far as she could see, crawled through every little crack and even sat on top of completely unaware people. In the span of a week, the city had gone from being mildly disquieting to a full blown hell for entomophobics. Makoto was not, but the present situation crossed the line from anxiety-inducing to plain disgusting, and Kuwabara and Botan seemed to agree very vocally with her. The others, though, took it in stride, at least on the outside.

They had separated into two groups, one with Yuusuke, Master Genkai, Kido and Yanagisawa to look for clues about the people behind the tunnel, and the other, with Kurama, Kuwabara, Kaitou, Botan and Makoto herself, who would head to the place where the Reikai had pinpointed the distortion's origin was: the center of the tunnel.

Makoto would have felt more confident had Kuwabara's reiki not been latent inside him since he overexerted himself at the tournament. As things stood, the main fighting force in the group after Kurama was her, and if pressed for a reaction, she wouldn't know whether to laugh hysterically at that or weep for their chances. She hoped they wouldn't need to resort to that.

She swatted a purple beetle lookalike that had made a dive towards her face. "Always bugs," she murmured bitterly. "Why is it always bugs? Is the Demon World like this?"

"No, thankfully," Kurama replied, despite the question not being directed to anybody in particular. "It's very much like this world in that respect. An infestation of this magnitude is extremely rare, but now that a new space has opened to them they are swarming to populate it…"

Good to know that Makoto wouldn't have to give up her dream of seeing the Demon World one day on account of a bug plague. "I shall console myself thinking that I will not have to dream with these again."

"I should have brought the insect killer cans," Botan said, swatting bugs left and right. She was huddling close enough to Makoto that getting an accidental slap to the face wasn't out of the question.

"People would think we're crazy if we sprayed at invisible bugs," Kuwabara retorted, but the wary glare he was slinging around was making people uncomfortable anyway.

"I don't care! This is disgusting!"

"Please, keep it down," Kaitou said. "We are proceeding towards the enemy base. We should not be attracting undue attention to ourselves."

"Agreed." Kurama was inspecting their surroundings nonstop, thought the only cue that gave it away was the movement of his eyes. The rest of his posture was as normal as if they'd been taking a stroll in the park. "We'll be in danger the more we approach the center of the distortion. Be careful going forward."

As they made their way, Makoto had the nagging feeling that something wasn't right, and it had nothing to do with the insects intent on landing on her shoulders.

"Kaitou," she began, "are you sure we are going to the right place?"

"We are going to the place the Spirit World told us. Whether it's right or wrong, I cannot say."

"It is wrong," Makoto replied with absolute certainty, though her only proof was a hunch feeling.

"How can you tell?" Botan asked.

"I can."

"Regardless, we are being followed," Kurama said as casually as someone would comment on the weather.

Others weren't so cautious.

Botan became shifty and started glaring around. "What? Who is it?"

"Should we go get them?" Kuwabara, stiff as a board, asked Kurama.

"That wouldn't be wise. It could be a trap, and getting into a fight in the middle of the street isn't in our best interest."

"Yeah, you're right." He glanced around and his shoulders drooped. "Still, I hate not being able to sense anything. When is my reiki coming back?"

"It has not gone anywhere," Makoto said. "Give it time until it recovers."

"We don't have time."

"We do not have another option, either."

Kuwabara made a noise of frustration and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

The spot they were looking for was an empty construction lot where grass had grown to cover the ground. The only suspicious thing they could around so far was the person following them. Makoto felt the unexplainable urge to ask Kaitou if he knew if there were any caves around, but bit back the comment in case they were overheard.

"Let's go back to the meeting point," Kurama said.

The presence disappeared as they neared the station, but right then an explosion of reiki somewhere in the city hit them. They shared a few uncertain glances while Kuwabara looked completely out of the loop.

"The other team must have run into our enemies," Kurama explained. "They are fighting."

That rattled him. "Shouldn't we go help?"

It was difficult to know where they were from one spike of energy alone, but finding them wouldn't have normally been out of the question. Their situation, though, wasn't normal – Kaitou may have had his territory, but Botan and Kuwabara couldn't fight against someone who posed a real threat, the enemy was aware of their presence in the city, and splitting the group would have meant that whichever part Kurama wasn't with would be an easy target for an attack.

She snuck a quick glance at Kurama, found him doing the same towards her, and she realized he must have been wondering if she had any insight to the situation.

She sighed weakly. "I cannot tell what is going on, but it did not ring any alarm bells, either."

Kurama gave a small nod. "We should wait for them. Yuusuke and Master Genkai are more than capable of dealing with a threat themselves."

Kuwabara crossed his arms and leaned against the station's wall. "I know that, dammit," he grumbled. "I just can't stand the feeling of being here twiddling my thumbs while the others are risking their lives."

Makoto looked tentatively towards the source of the energy blast, to the sky, thinking she was in full agreement with him. No matter how many times it happened, she didn't seem to get used to sitting out the action while the others were in danger.

—

Yuusuke and the others were late by an hour, and told them they had run into trouble at the hospital, where one of the enemies worked at. They had enlisted the help of a human with a newly developed territory who could read minds, and he had found what seemed to be the mastermind behind the tunnel, but a sudden attack had made them lose his trail as soon as he had appeared. It seemed to be more of a staged introduction than any real advancement on their part, particularly if they took into account how Makoto's group had been followed the entire morning.

The long and short of the day was that the enemy knew exactly who they were, and they knew nothing about them, not even the exact place of their hideout.

Makoto arrived home that afternoon, wearing her school uniform as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and had a normal evening finishing some homework and dining with her parents. There was nothing planned for the next day, so she could take it as a chance to rest before things got ugly again. She had no doubt they would.

Doraemon jumped onto her bed when Makoto dropped on it, and bumped her hand with his head. She saw herself, nearly ten years younger, wearing a yellow raincoat and peeking into a construction pipe. Vision-Makoto stared and spoke quietly at her, and when Makoto came to, she understood a little better what people meant when they said she was an unnerving child.

"Seriously…?" She mumbled to herself, lifted the covers and slid inside them, feeling Doraemon settle by her side.

—

"Good morning, Kodama."

Makoto was stopped at the gate of Meiou by a voice calling her, the source of which an none other than Kaitou approached her at a good pace.

She looked at him curiously because she wasn't expecting him to actually address her at school. He didn't seem to address anybody at school, come to think of it. He had less friends than Makoto, and that was saying something. "Good morning."

"Do we have any news?"

Makoto saw a few students had taken notice of the unlikely pair. "Not yet."

He took a moment to think and readjust his glasses. "Is there nothing we can do but wait until the enemy makes a move?"

She wanted to say that no, there was, but then her radar pinged and she spun around so fast that she nearly hit Kaitou on the face with her hair, just in time to catch Kurama sneaking up on them and about to speak.

"Aha!" She said with unending satisfaction as he said, "There is one thing."

Kaitou stared at Makoto's smug smile and Kurama's amused reaction with confusion, and so did a few other students. "Did I miss something here?"

"Nothing at all," Kurama said quite happily. "I didn't expect you to find you two together."

"Given the situation, there is no point in hiding," Kaitou said.

Makoto nodded faintly. "They could find us if they wanted to."

"That's true, but it doesn't make it any less surprising. Have you looked around?"

Makoto did. As discreetly as they could, a few students had stopped on their way to the building and were staring at them with curiosity, whispering softly every now and then. A pair stiffened and hurried to class, embarrassed, when Makoto's eyes lingered on them.

"I suppose neither of us is known for socializing," Makoto admitted. And with a throwaway glance at Kurama she added, "Or you, for that matter."

"Engaging in inane chatter with classmates is not high on my list of priorities," Kaitou said.

"Agreed," Makoto said. "Meanwhile, he's a people magnet even when he's not trying."

"Am I?"

"While we're on the subject, I must say that you are irritatingly perfect at school, Minamino."

Judging by Kurama's face, he took the comment as a badge of honor.

"He does it even when he is not trying. 'Minamino is so kind, trying to get along with those two.' That is what they are thinking. We are giving you undeserved good press."

"You wound me," he said, and he did sound hurt, the jerk.

"Yes, that is your problem," Makoto said blandly. "Everybody wounds you."

Maybe it was the tone in which the jab was delivered, maybe it was because the tension of the last two days was getting to him as well and he didn't have another outlet, but for a split second it looked like he was trying to hold himself back until he couldn't take it anymore and a hearty laugh escaped him. Makoto and Kaitou wouldn't have paid it any mind had someone in the audience not gasped, loudly, because had anyone seen Minamino laugh, _ever_?

Makoto just thought her week – her second week in a row – kept on getting more and more absurd, and she made it known with a huffy, "This is ridiculous," and headed to the school building leaving the boys behind.

But it also worried her, deep inside, that her schoolmates were right. He never laughed.

She had just sat on her desk when Kurama passed by and whispered without looking at her, "Talk to me after school," and somehow she knew she could wait for him beside the stairs after the last period, because no one would be around at that time.

—

Makoto lingered after school, missing the days where Fumiko would come to get her as soon as the bell rang to head home together.

Ah, there it began. The missing. She had wondered when it would hit.

When Kurama arrived, he looked less ruffled than he had been lately. Makoto guessed it had to do with the sudden decision of the president of the biology club to give up. She hadn't asked what had happened, and did not want to know.

"Sorry to make you wait," he said. "I didn't know you were here."

"No worries. I know you would come."

He lifted an eyebrow. "That's convenient. Anyway, there is something I want to do while we wait for new developments."

Makoto looked at him with curiosity. "And you are including me in these plans?"

"If you want to. I remembered you told me you had never gone out of the Human World."

That only piqued her interest further. "What does that have anything to do with the current situation?"

"I was planning on paying Koenma a visit. Do you want to come along?"

"Sure," she said quickly, and then thought it better. "How do you even get to the Spirit World? Do you know how to?"

Kurama was silent for a bit and replied, "Do you remember the artifacts?"

"No. I pointedly avoided asking about them."

"Well, they were property of King Enma."

Makoto deadpanned. "You stole from the Spirit World."

"And it was disappointingly easy," he declared. "But don't worry, I plan on going through the front door this time."

Not exactly reassured, she said, "…I will go with you."

He smiled. "Great. Do you mind if I pick you up at home tomorrow morning?"

Makoto considered what it could mean for her if her mother opened the door. She decided to get to it first. "I suppose it's okay. I will be fast."

He seemed a little confused by that but he did not ask, and she didn't think it was worth explaining.

—

The next day, there was something about the sound of the doorbell that made Makoto uneasy, but she didn't have time to dwell on it if she wanted to get to the door before her mother.

As soon as she opened it she was faced with a very serious Kurama, who tugged at her wrist, checked for something behind her, and whispered in a hurry, " _Your house is a territory_."

The words took a few seconds to sink in.

"My— _What?!_ "

He pulled her along until they were right outside the garden fence.

Makoto stepped into the street and the dimensions around her shifted.

Speechless, she turned around to stare at her home. "How… Who…" She shook her head slowly. This was not happening. "How did I not notice?"

Kurama ignored her question to get to the point. "Who's inside?"

"Just my parents. They should be about to leave for work."

"Then the suspects are clear."

She looked back and forth from the house to Kurama. "Are you nuts? That cannot be!"

"Doesn't spirit awareness run in one side of your family?"

The grasp around her schoolbag tightened as agitation grew inside of her. "My dad's never had an ounce of that. I'd have noticed."

"People with territories don't leave a much bigger impression than regular humans, and you'd be used to your parents' presence, of all people."

"But I would have sensed the territory's activation," she countered.

He seemed to have an answer for everything, though. "What if it had happened overnight?"

Makoto wasn't sure how to argue with that, but her mind was reeling. It had to be a mistake. This could not be happening right now. Her parents did not have any noticeable reiki, never had, never showed the smallest hint of awareness.

She freed her arm from Kurama's grasp and walked back into the front yard, and she felt herself enter a different, identical-looking reality, which dispelled all her objections in a single blow.

Makoto had never been too good at self-denial.

She breathed in and let out a single, " _Shit_ ," oodles of pure exasperation concentrated in one colorful word. Kurama made a double-take at the rare swear coming from her.

If she paid attention, which she was doing now, desperate enough to be hoping for an overlooked intruder, it was clear as day that there was no one else at home. Even from outside, she could pinpoint the presence of her dad in one of the rooms of the lower floor, her mom crossing the hallway, Doraemon prowling the second floor like a tiny black panther.

Kurama was doing his best to sound tactful when he spoke. "What do you want to do?"

Because, of course, she _had_ to do something. If this territory was the reason she had acted like a bumbling idiot on Monday when she had been so determined to avoid school, it was dangerous. What did it do?

The last person she had spoken to that morning had been her father.

She had been heading outside. They had made small talk. Makoto hated small talk. She had left the house and gone to Meiou against her will.

She replayed the scene in her head several times, like someone watches a magic trick trying to figure out the secret. It wasn't long until she found the key.

He had asked her if she was going to school.

And suddenly a switch had flipped in her brain and made her say that she was, and she had forgotten all about her original plans until she had, indeed, reached the school.

Territories were related to the particularities and circumstances of their user, it appeared, and it wasn't difficult for Makoto to follow that thread in her dad's case. Always calm and content, able to navigate his way through endless meetings with well-placed words and come out of them with profitable deals. He was the kind of person you couldn't be angry at, the one who always got his way through sheer cordiality. He'd always had a gift for people. It made too much sense if his power was, actually, to _convince_.

The perspective would have been terrifying had Makoto's dad not been an easygoing and kind man. On the other hand, he probably wouldn't have developed that ability if he hadn't been like that.

She took a dark look at her home and steeled herself. It wasn't like she had many choices available, and she knew which one she was going to pick. Just a few months ago, what she was about to do would have been unthinkable, but in that moment, not only did it seem the right thing to do, but also the only one that made sense.

"Go on to the Spirit World," she told Kurama, stare still fixed on her home. "I will stay and talk to them."

"Talk to them…?" He repeated. The way he said it suggested that he suspected what she wanted to do, but he wasn't willing to make that assumption.

She understood why. She could try to make up a million things that would still be more believable than the truth, and try to navigate the situation as well as she could while keeping yet another huge secret from her parents. Her conundrum must have struck uncomfortably close home to Kurama.

But she didn't want to do that anymore. "I am tired of lies," she said, weary, sincerely, and with a conviction she didn't know where it had come from, but she planned to hold onto it like her life depended on it. Life as she knew did, at any rate. Then her voice was back to her usual, impassive one. "Grill Koenma for me. The last thing you need is getting caught in my family drama."

 _The last thing you need is getting your cover blown for nothing._ She glanced at Kurama for a second, enough to be certain that he had gotten what she meant to say, and scurried quickly inside the house, leaving him behind in his unspoken astonishment.

Both of them had too much to lose, but only one of them needed to risk it. Makoto knew, like she knew so many things that she had no proof of, that he was going to leave.

She had made it almost to the tatami when she sensed his quiet presence walking up to her, and she spun around to make sure he wasn't imagining things. He came up to her and she stared at him with a silent question.

"You didn't really believe that I'd leave you alone now, did you?" He said, sounding the slightest bit offended.

"Kurama, you don't need to stay."

"Just like you didn't need to come to Hanging Neck Island."

She opened her mouth, wanting to speak and coming up with nothing. She had not expected that action to come back and blow up in her face like this. The situations weren't even comparable. "That was different. I wasn't risking anything of value by going there."

His eyebrows arched and he asked, skeptical, somehow throwing back in her face every complaint she'd had about him during the tournament with three words, "Like your life?"

There was no good reply to that.

"I should be shoving you out myself," she grumbled, defeated.

"Don't you want my moral support?" He asked innocently.

She gave him a wry smile and entered the room, with him trailing close by.

Makoto's dad had his back to the door while he put on his suit jacket, and her mother was closing a briefcase at the low table in the center of the room.

She began, "Did you forget something, Ma—" and cut the question short when she glanced up and saw Kurama by the door. Her look of surprise was quickly replaced by a huge smile, and she hurried to her feet. "You must be Shuuichi! I remember you from the hospital, back in January. It's so nice to meet you!"

That prompted Makoto's dad to turn around, mirroring his wife's smile. "Hello! It's good to see you in person after hearing about you for so long."

It was him. Now that she was aware of the distortion, Makoto felt the source of the territory like a slap to the face.

"Pleased to meet you as well," Kurama said in his polite Minamino way.

"How is your mother?" Makoto's mom asked. "You should come another day for lunch so we can talk more calmly!"

"Absolutely! I'm afraid we're in a bit of a hurry… But so are you if you don't want to be late," her father said amicably, and peppered the comment with a light laugh for extra niceness. "Let's head out, hm?"

It was the weirdest thing, watching her father approach the door, and seeing that Minamino smile frozen on Kurama's face as he nodded, and the only thing that made prevented her from leaving the room and made her snap out of it was that she saw Kurama about to commit the same mistake she had on Monday. To his credit, he realized what he was about to do almost immediately, and gave her an alarmed look that spoke volumes.

She tried not to feel excessively vindicated about the other day, but it was difficult. However, since it was not the moment to say ' _I told you so'_ , she stepped in the middle of the door to prevent her parents from leaving. "There is something urgent we need to talk about. Please sit down."

"Mako?"

"Please."

She had expected more resistance, but they didn't put it up. Makoto never asked anything from her parents if she could help it, and she sounded so solemn that they obeyed her, looking concerned, and Makoto sat at the table as well with a sigh.

Kurama stayed by the door.

"What's wrong?" Her mother asked softly.

' _Everything_ ,' she wanted to say.

"Dad," she began, putting aside all other thoughts that weren't focused on getting through this, "do you remember when Nana talked about things you couldn't see?"

"Ah, yes," he said fondly. "She had a very vivid imagination."

"Yes, she did," Makoto agreed without wanting to, and gritting her teeth added, "but that is beside the point." Once that was out, speaking her mind became easier again. "Do you remember when she and Master Genkai talked about reiki?"

He gave her a sad smile. "Your grandma believed in some weird things. But what does she have to do with anything, Mako?"

Makoto opened her mouth to reply to his question, and had to make a gigantic effort not to. Her hands balled into fists on her lap as tried her best to press on. "Do you remember all the times I warned you that something was going to happen and it did?" Her mother's head cocked to the side, interest piqued. Her dad, though, tried to reply, but she didn't let him. "Do you remember when your sister dropped me on the doorstep of this house because she could not stand me anymore and called me a monster?"

She had been three, or so they thought. There had never been a birth certificate to check.

Makoto had never held any ill will against her, but her parents, understandably, had never been so sympathetic.

The smile on her father's face disappeared in the blink of an eye. "We don't talk about that woman."

Makoto tried to speak, but the words didn't come out. She lifted a hand in front of her open mouth, feeling like the words were stuck there and she couldn't pull them out.

"Mr. Kodama," Kurama intervened, catching the attention of both of Makoto's parents. "I suggest you listen to what your daughter has to say. It is important."

It was like the words came loose, and Makoto managed to say, "We need to talk about that woman, because she had spiritual awareness, and so did Nana, and Master Genkai, and I, and now so do you."

While her mom stayed silent as a tomb, her dad's mouth twitched in a nervous smile. "What are you talking about?"

"Dad, you have powers," she blurted out, glad of not having to oppose resistance to say what she wanted this time. "We have always thought that you did not have the potential, but it runs in the family, and due to exceptional circumstances, it has awakened. And you are using that power now."

He laughed as a defense mechanism, because he didn't sound self-assured at all when he spoke. "That's ridiculous."

"Of course it is," she said in a very matter-of-fact way, and as soon as she did she cursed herself for lowering her guard and slapped the table, making her parents jump. "Stop. You are doing it right now."

She just thanked her lucky stars that, apparently, being aware of the power while it was active was more or less enough to fight it. For now.

The idea of it developing into something stronger was nightmarish.

"But I'm not doing anything!" He said as a knee-jerk response, and Makoto found herself simultaneously agreeing with him and holding back that of course he wasn't, because that would have been plain silly.

Somehow, she was able to trudge on. "It's obvious by now. You can change people's minds effortlessly to get your way. You are forcing me to agree with you every time I say something you don't like. You would be able to tell someone to jump in front of a truck, and they would."

He was ready to retort, but Makoto's mom, who had stayed silent until then and had a thoughtful expression since Makoto had mentioned her own powers, said to everyone's surprise. "She has a point, Hideki. This conversation doesn't sound… natural…"

He turned to her, sounding betrayed. "You too?"

"Well…" She rubbed a spot behind her ear unconsciously. "When has she ever changed her mind in the middle of an argument?"

His face hardened. "Akemi, this joke isn't funny anymore. We need to leave."

Makoto's mother frowned at her daughter and said, "That's right, Mako. I don't know what you're playing at, but…" She lost steam as she went, watching Makoto's face calmly staring at her, waiting for her to catch on. When she did, she slapped a hand over her mouth and shot a shocked glare at her husband. "Oh my God. She's right."

Makoto's father didn't know where to look for help anymore. "Akemi, why are you going along with this?"

"Because it makes sense! Mako and your mother always being able to tell what was about to happen, and now you, making me agree with you!"

"I am not doing anything!"

Makoto saw her mother's posture suddenly relax, and open her mouth to start talking, but the muscles of her face tensed up, and she ended up opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, unwilling to say what he wanted, but unable to say what _she_ meant.

Makoto felt Doraemon's presence creep inside the room. He looked up with curiosity at Kurama, as if he could smell something different about him, and when he likely didn't deem him a safety hazard – he was a cat, he could not know better –, walked up to Makoto's mother, meowed, and hit her with a paw.

She picked up the cat, sighing with relief at having regained the ability to talk, and the stares both her and the cat leveled at Makoto's dad could have drilled holes into his skull.

"She's telling the truth," Makoto's mother said.

He was about to retort and start the cycle of _yes you did – no I didn't_ again, but Makoto needed to take advantage of her mother's unexpected support before it devolved to the first stage.

Something to prove him without a doubt that what she said was true. Something that could not be faked by a person, no matter what.

Her gaze fell on the cat, and she had an idea.

"Tell Doraemon to do something," Makoto said to her father.

"Why?"

"Don't you want to prove we are lying and get this over with?"

He made a wry face, but relented, and with a small huff said, "Doraemon, hop on the table."

It was like a switch had been turned on. As soon as he uttered his name, the cat snapped his head up at him and started struggling out of the grasp of Makoto's mother, until she let go and he was free to go.

Onto the table.

"He isn't trained, is he?" Her mother asked, unsure and in awe.

"He is not."

"It could be a coincidence," he mumbled.

Makoto's mom was having none of it. "Hurry, Hideki, tell him to do something else!"

"Akemi—"

"Come on!" She urged him. "What do you have to lose?"

Nervous, he looked briefly around, and when he spotted the TV remote, said, "Doraemon, turn on the TV."

For an instant, even Makoto doubted it was going to work. She had told him to order Doraemon around on a hunch, but he was a normal cat, no matter how smart he seemed at times, and it was doubtful that he could understand what he had been told. In fact, if Doraemon obeyed, it would prove that her father's power went beyond words, and the prospect of something like that being out of control wasn't a pretty one. She found herself almost wishing that it didn't work, even if it would undo all her efforts.

Doraemon didn't move at once, as if he was having trouble processing the order. Then, he jumped down the table, gingerly walked to the TV remote on the floor, and pressed a button. As soon as he did, his back arched, hairs standing on end, glared at every person in the room, and fled into the hallway.

Three pairs of eyes stared at Hideki as he, in turn, stared at the newscaster on the screen.

"I… I can't… There has to be another explanation…"

With the deepest sigh of relief she had ever exhaled, Makoto rose and said in a tone that admitted no discussion, "Now that that's settled, I am going to call Master Genkai. Get comfortable. This will take a while."

—

Kurama and Makoto were stuck at her home the entire morning, and her parents had to call in sick for work to wait for Master Genkai and have her explain them what was happening.

Makoto had gone through this conversation three times in two weeks. Genkai didn't look too pleased at having to repeat herself, either, and had lost her patience after Makoto's dad had tried to excuse himself several times and activated his power against Genkai, prompting the woman to tell him he could either shut up on his own or have her help with it. He didn't raise any further complaints.

While her dad was so deep in his denial that it was almost admirable, Makoto's mom had taken the news extremely well. As it turned out, she'd had her suspicions about more than a few things since they took Makoto in, and now everything was starting to make sense.

No one blamed Makoto for keeping secrets from them.

She had expected reproaches or even getting the boot from home as soon as they understood what was going on, but her dad seemed to be overwhelmed with learning that he had a power of his own to worry about, and her mom didn't even register her family having supernatural powers as a problem. Rather, it was the answer to her doubts.

Makoto thought she it would be best to talk to her about it later, because the situation put them all at risk, but for the moment they had already wasted a lot of time. Kurama had patiently stuck by her side through it all, watching the situation with a mix of fascination and sympathy, and Makoto wasn't able to put into words how grateful she felt for it.

Something undeniably good came out of the incident, though: they had a safe place to leave their physical bodies at while they went to the Spirit World.

Makoto's dad nearly had a heart attack when he saw her daughter's and Kurama's spirit come out of their bodies, while her mother just stared at them, sitting with their eyes closed, wondering when they were going to move and why her husband looked so freaked out.

"Be back in a few hours," Makoto said to everybody, though only her dad and Master Genkai heard, and she was at last able to leave the house with Kurama.

—

The great doors to Koenma's office looked like something out of an imperial palace, so tall and wide that a giant could have used them.

As Kurama buzzed the intercom to get them access, Makoto walked to the edge of the platform in the middle of the sky where the building stood. Under the clouds, there was only a freefall, white clouds, and the Sanzu river. If the souls of the deceased came to where they both were then, where did the river go, exactly?

The landscape below was, for lack of a better word, otherworldly. She strained her eyes to see, so distant the river was that not even she could make out the shapes on the ground with absolute definition, but she was fairly certain that what she was looking for wasn't there.

The colossal doors began to open, and Makoto took a few seconds to follow Kurama.

"What were you looking at?" He asked.

"I was wondering if there really were spider lilies along the river."

The flowers that lined its shores, according to the stories, guiding the souls of the departed to their resting place.

Kurama hesistated briefly, and then replied, "I don't recall seeing any."

"I suppose not all legends are true," she said with a hint of disappointment.

A bright light blinded her for a moment, and when she saw again, she was greeted by a live representation of the essence of chaos. In a wide office, ogres ran around frantically, carrying stacks of papers and making calls, yelling and panicking and looking very stressed.

"Most definitely not," Kurama said with amusement as he saw her bewildered face.

No wonder there had been an administrative hiccup with Yuusuke's death. Makoto was staring at the very reason why her powers had gone haywire, and noticed that she wasn't even annoyed anymore. Their incompetence had been for the best.

She smiled a little at that thought. Even if many things had changed for her lately, this one had not. The Spirit World's ineptitude always seemed to be a great thing for everyone involved.

Kurama moved swiftly through the office, apparently knowing perfectly where he was going, and Makoto trailed close behind. They only person to be found in Koenma's office was an ogre that Makoto vaguely remembered seeing with Koenma during the tournament. She supposed he was an assistant.

"Ah, are you looking for Lord Koenma?" He said helpfully, adding some more documents to an already unstable stack that towered above his head. "He's busy in the archive and asked not to be disturbed. You'll have to come back at another time."

"Thank you. We'll do just that," said Kurama, and with a small bow of the head stepped back into the hallway and walked with purpose in a direction that was obviously not the one they had taken to get there.

"You know where the archive is too?" Makoto asked, falling into step. They were walking so confidently that nobody seemed to think twice about them being there.

"Yes. I had to memorize the building plans before Hiei and I broke in."

"That was four months ago," she said idly, and automatically she thought, 'Of course it was four months ago, and I should be surprised but I'm way past that at this point.'

"It should be around the corner…" He turned one, walked to a nearby door and opened it.

Makoto watched rows upon rows of bookcases and shelves full of binders and folders in a room so big she could not determine its size. But she could hear, somewhere inside, the sound of somebody passing pages.

They followed the sound, searching among the bookcases, until they found Koenma on top of a ladder skimming over a file.

"I thought I told you to…" He lifted his eyes from the papers to look at them. "Hm? What are you two doing here? Did something happen?"

"Maybe. But that is a question for you to answer."

Now, Kurama wasn't angry. He looked quite relaxed, actually, as he looked up at Koenma expectantly, with his hands in the pockets of his uniform. But there was something in his eyes, a barely-there edge to his words that was outright threatening, like he could drill his way with that stare into Koenma's mind, and he was allowing him one chance to lay the truth bare willingly before he took it upon himself to dig it out. Koenma faltered only for a split second, and then his face became a neutral mask, just like Kurama's.

There was a moment of understanding between these two, Makoto realized, an awareness and a way of carrying themselves that one could only hope to attain after centuries of living, of having to put on facades, weigh every word, of situations where the slightest slip could cost you something important.

Makoto paid attention to their demeanor with morbid interest. For science.

"I don't know what you mean, Kurama," Koenma said with disinterest.

Kurama went straight to the point. "I have reasons to think that you're withholding information about this case from us."

Koenma rested the file on his lap and glanced at it, as he said dismissively, "Nonsense. You know well that I need this case solved as soon as possible. It's the Spirit World's highest priority."

"Then why haven't you told us anything about who is behind this case?"

Koenma didn't reply, but the stare he leveled at Kurama didn't betray a single emotion. He was good. "What makes you think I know about them?"

"You were able to give us the location for the tunnel and an estimate of its growth rate. Spatial distortions of this magnitude are impossible to come by naturally, and finding someone with the power no open them is exceedingly rare. There has to be a powerful medium working day and night on that tunnel. Are you telling me the Spirit World doesn't have a register of the very few people who would be capable to do this?"

Koenma kept quiet and let him continue. Makoto felt disappointed with herself for not realizing that of course there had to be a register for these sorts of people. The Spirit World loved cataloguing everyone with supernatural powers.

"Furthermore, you did not even tell this to Yuusuke when relaying the details of the case, possibly because any information about the one responsible for the tunnel would have led to more questions on our part. That's what leads me to think that you are hiding something."

Makoto listened in awe. He was frightening, in more ways than one.

But Koenma clammed up. "Don't be ridiculous. You are overthinking this. I have no reason to keep information from you."

The dismissal didn't deter Kurama, and he kept pushing. "There's no denying that you should have a list of suspects by now, but you haven't given us any leads. And you haven't because you already know who we are dealing with, and for some reason you don't want us to know. Is the person opening the tunnel related to the Spirit World at all?"

There was a beat of silence, and Koenma sounded honest when he said, "That's a nice theory, but I have a lot of work to do, and I don't have the time to put up with your questioning. Show yourselves out."

Kurama's eyes narrowed a millimeter, but Koenma had gone back to his documents and was ignoring him as hard as he was able to.

"So after all they've done for you, you are going let Yuusuke and Kuwabara head blindly into danger?"

Koenma returned the glare. "Kurama, this is the last time I'll say it. Leave and find something more productive to think about."

The politician and the criminal butting heads. Maybe this was an argument for the ages and it was not Makoto's place to step in, but she had come all the way to the Spirit World, after all, and she didn't think she had been offered to make the trip to be a wallflower. Maybe the two of them were so old and so set on their ways that they hadn't thought that their ways weren't the only ones. And she had already risked so much that day that breaking their little moment was laughable compared to telling the truth to her parents.

The world was for the young, Makoto thought.

She walked to the stepladder and began climbing it, feeling a pair of surprised stares locked on her.

"Mako—"

"D-don't come any closer!"

But Koenma had nowhere to go unless he dropped backwards, and the only things that waited down for him were the cold stone floor and Kurama. Anyone in their right minds would take their chances with Makoto.

She got to his level, lifted a hand, and touched his face.

 _We can't have lost it! It has to be somewhere—If it isn't in the archive—Who had access to it last? Check everyone who had clearance! We need to find it now!_

Makoto blinked away the fog and the yelling, and he stared into Koenma's eyes with her own black pools of nothingness, a look that she had been feeling for too long that it was losing its effect.

Judging by the way Koenma shifted very uncomfortably on his spot, it hadn't.

"So," she said quietly, relishing the moment, and still standing on the stepladder to prevent Koenma from fleeing, panic now evident in his face, "What did you lose that is so incredibly important?"

As Koenma's face turned turned ashen she knew that her gamble had paid off, and Kurama's appreciative stare felt like the best prize she could have gotten.


	16. Chapter 16

While I wrote this chapter, I decided a few things regarding this story. There are a few one-shots I'd like to write, including that one about how Mako and Fumi met, but instead of publishing them separately, I'll wait until this story is over and add them as extras. I thought it would be for the best, because, as weird as it feels to me, there aren't that many chapters to go until the end now, and I'll be able to write them without feeling the pressure to keep going with the plot.

Another thing that seems more and more likely as I think about it is that this story will have a sequel, though it won't be written from Makoto's POV. But she'll be there! There is still a lot I'd like to do with this setting.

And the last one is that, since some of you had asked me about Makoto's biological parents, I included some information in this chapter. Originally it was going to be one of those one-shots I mentioned, but I felt it worked better here.

Thanks everyone for reading, reviewing and being awesome. You keep me going.

 **Guest:** Thank you for the review, and thanks for the well wishes as well! I wasn't too aware of how loaded last chapter was, but I think this one might outdo it. You can be the judge of that!

 **Kalmaegi:** Dad had trouble admitting that he came from a family of weirdoes while mom was fully aware that she'd married into one. She just wasn't aware of the exact nature of the weirdness until then. And a laughing Kurama is a miracle the caliber of a laughing Hiei, almost.

 **Lurker69:** Thank so much! I hope you keep enjoying the story!

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

Makoto and Kurama left the Spirit World without the information they had been looking for, but with Koenma's promise that he'd explain everything the next day, when everybody was gathered and his part of the investigation was done.

"That was clever of you," Kurama after a while.

They were already in the Human World, walking towards Makoto's house to retrieve their bodies. Not that walking was a necessity when one could just float, but it made them feel less momentarily dead.

"It was lucky," she countered

"One thing doesn't preclude the other. In fact, it was cleverness that allowed luck to strike."

Makoto wouldn't have given any second thought to the compliment if it had come from anybody else, but this was Kurama, and she thought she had reason to feel proud if he thought she'd made a smart move.

"That argument was going nowhere."

"I'm afraid so," he agreed, sounding a little disappointed. "But your newfound power is already proving to be useful."

"Glad to be of service. I was feeling a little left out there."

"That wasn't my intention."

"I know. You just cannot help being the center of attention."

They weren't far from Makoto's home when, after a while of comfortable silence, Kurama said, "About earlier, at your home…"

"Do not worry," she said without looking at him. "My parents will not say anything, and they will not hear from me what you are. Your secret is safe."

"Ah." A thoughtful pause. "Thank you. But that wasn't what I meant."

Makoto looked at him from the corner of her eye, waiting for an explanation.

"It was a family matter and that conversation should have been a private. I apologize for staying."

Makoto stared at him quizzically. He sounded sincere and unnecessarily remorseful. She didn't like it.

"While I cannot imagine what exactly prompted you to say this, I can assure you that your presence wasn't unwelcome. Quite the contrary, actually." And she added in a thin, timid voice, "Thank you for staying. I didn't think you would. You could have been in serious trouble, but you stayed anyway. I will not forget that."

He opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to think better and closed it. A few seconds of contemplation passed before he said, "It was the least I could do."

"That is not true, and you know it."

He didn't deny. He looked to the side, face hidden from Makoto, and let out a small sigh. He didn't speak until he was facing forward again, and by then there was no trace of conflict in his face. The usual impenetrable wall was there again. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," Makoto replied, echoing a conversation they'd had months prior.

Kurama flashed the briefest of smiles, but it faded when he spoke. "You said your mother abandoned you…?"

Makoto suddenly understood why he was acting so skittish.

"More or less."

"I don't quite follow."

"She abandoned me, but her mother role was merely perfunctory. My mother is the one I have now," she said neutrally. It wasn't like she was making an effort to hide her feelings, either. She'd simply stated a series of facts. "If this is what was worrying you, you can let it go. It was never a secret, though I am sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

"I see." He closed his eyes momentarily, and he sounded at ease when he spoke again. "Despite the differences, it's funny how similar our circumstances have turned out to be."

"I think I know what you are going for, but I'm afraid I am the one who is not following now."

He seemed lost in thought, reminiscing events so far away that it was a wonder he still had any recollections of them at all. "I was abandoned as well, though… well, saying it happened long ago would be an understatement." He smiled a little to himself. "And to be honest, I hadn't given any thought to it in centuries."

"I do not think about it, either." She shrugged a bit. "It is not important. It never was."

"How old were you?"

"Three. Possibly. I am not sure of my age."

"That is awful." Another objective statement. The words were devoid of pity.

Unfazed, Makoto said, "Says the guy who lost count of his after a thousand or so."

Kurama hid his mouth behind a hand as he coughed with very suspicious timing.

"You see," Makoto said, glad that the heaviness in the air was gone, "when you are like me, sometimes you start believing that things happen for a reason. Sometimes," she lifted her hands, extended both index fingers and thumbs, and formed a photo frame with them, "just by looking at one precise instant in time, you see the connections that have brought you to where you are," she let arms drop, "and sometimes a chain of coincidences so long takes place that it becomes impossible to think that they were due to random chance. So, for instance, if you take this moment and look back at what made it possible, would you still say that all the bad things that brought us here were for the worse?" She didn't wait for an answer. She wasn't looking for one. "I honestly do not know if things do happen for a reason or not," Makoto said, and the corner of her lips quirked up imperceptibly, "but I choose to believe that everything will eventually lead me to a better place. It has held true until now."

Kurama stared at her in a way she didn't know what to make of, and he kept his thoughts to himself until they were in front of Makoto's house. "I don't know if they do, either." He put his hands in his pockets, and sounded at peace and maybe a little impressed when he continued. "But I know you haven't ceased to surprise me since we met, and today appears to be your day in that regard."

Makoto observed him, weighing his words, and in the end only cracked a mischievous smile as she forewent the front door and traversed a wall, because such were the perks of not having a physical body.

Upon reaching the tatami room, they saw Makoto's mom was still there, though her present company was Fumiko. They were at the table, chatting over a beer and a soda, respectively, and of course, neither noticed when Makoto and Kurama floated into the room.

Their bodies were still sitting where they had left them. They must have looked very creepy to her poor mother, Makoto thought.

"—feel really bad we had to keep it from you," Fumiko was saying when they came in. "And Mako too, you know how she is about lying. But she didn't want to trouble you if she could help it."

"She's always been like that," Makoto's mom mused sadly. "Always doing things on her own, keeping everything to herself. But what about her? It must have been so hard to keep it hidden…"

Fumiko shrugged weakly. "I don't think she's ever been a priority to herself."

Makoto floated to her body and reentered it. It was the strangest sensation.

"That isn't right. It isn't right," she repeated. "Parents are the ones who should protect their children, not the other way around." She looked on the brink of tears. "How alone must she have felt all this time…?"

"I never have," Makoto intervened, prompting the two women to jump from their seats. "Please stop thinking like that. You have done for me much more that anyone could reasonably ask for."

Her mom's eyes were wide and her right hand was over her chest. "Mako! How was it? Where did you go? Did your spirit really leave your body?"

"Yes, it did." As Makoto stretched, she registered Kurama stirring next to her. She didn't know about him, but she was sore in places she didn't known she had. "We went to the Spirit World to extract information from the son of King Enma," she said, and as if it would help her mother understand, she added, "He's the boss of a friend."

Makoto's mom nodded awkwardly, slowly, and repeated, "A friend…" Then, as if a switch in her brain had just been turned on, she exclaimed, bringing a hand to her mouth, "Where are my manners? Shuuichi, welcome back! Would you like to stay for dinner? There's a lot I'd like to ask you!"

Makoto sent Kurama a panicked glance, but if he noticed, he didn't show it, and him being him, he had for sure.

"I appreciate the offer, but maybe some other time," he said with the most charming of smiles and voice, full-blown Minamino style, and now that Makoto knew him well, she realized how funny it was to be aware of how fake he was. "It's getting late, and my mother must be waiting for me at home."

"Oh, of course." Makoto's mom seemed to lose much of her enthusiasm. "But feel free to come back any time. Do you hear that, Mako?" She stressed the last question.

"Yeah, you hear that, Mako?" Fumiko repeated with a sly grin, warm brown eyes glinting. "Stop hiding your new friends from us."

"You two should not be allowed in the same room," she deadpanned.

Kurama, who looked completely innocent through the whole exchange, took that chance to say his goodbyes and get up, and Makoto followed him to the door out of courtesy, because she could be a good host when she wanted to and, more importantly, she didn't want her mom getting on her case. They were interrupted in the hallway by Makoto's father coming down from the second floor, and the look of surprise on his face when he saw them quickly morphed into a sheepish expression. He apologized profusely for the family drama in the morning, Kurama apologized as well for intruding, and both were being exhaustingly polite when the image of a cave hit Makoto, _Yuusuke falling, body limp, a room crumbling down and the screams of a kid, a black so deep it looked like light could never touch it, and Kuwabara, Hiei, a man she didn't know_ —

Her legs gave out, her hands shooting up to hold her head as the torrent of images filled it with so much force it felt like it was going to split in half, and somehow, somewhere in the middle of the overload, she felt someone hold her before she hit the floor.

It was a mistake.

 _Fury, regret, bamboo shoots and red flying and silver gleaming, tinkling as it hit the stone, Yuusuke dead, sadness so poignant it physically hurt, Shiori in a hospital bed while a doctor gave him the diagnostic, anguish, impotence, a child's body dropping lifeless to the ground, pleading, sealing his fate anyway,_ _ **this is not who I am anymore**_ _—_

Makoto's head snapped up all of a sudden and she was met directly with Kurama's, bright, alarmed, impossibly green stare, but as she regained her regular eyesight, the proximity made everything become a blur.

The last thing Makoto thought before passing out was that she hadn't been fair with him when she had called him cold, or when she had thought him self-centered, and that she, of all people, should have understood how much he cared underneath all the masks he wore.

—

 _The first vision she had was full of anger, disgust and surprise. It was her first memory, and it stuck with her since then._

 _She remembered many things from her first years of life, though back then she didn't know she was not supposed to remember, and she did not have the words or context to rationalize those memories._

 _She remembered her biological mother being absent for most of the day, every day. She remembered spending hours alone at home, with an old TV as her only company, until her mother saw fit to return. When she was home, she barely spoke to her. All the words she wasn't being provided by human contact, she learned watching program after program, with those pitch black eyes that made her mother leave the room if she ever set them on her face._

 _She learned to look down when other people were in the room, though the only one around was her mother, because she never had any visitors._

 _She remembered the fear in her mother's features every time she looked at her. In time, she would realize that she was afraid of her because she wasn't human._

 _She remembered listening to her cry and repeat to herself that she had given birth to a monster. One day, she tried to console her, and said that she shouldn't be sad because they wouldn't live together much time. She had reached with a hand to touch her arm, and her mother had recoiled as if her fingers were venomous._

 _Hers was a temporary stay. She had known from that first vision, and she knew the day it would happen was not far away, and that it would be the best for the two of them._

 _She was never sure if she became numb towards her circumstances over time, or if she had been like that from the day she was born._

 _The day her mother brought her to her uncle's home, she stood next to the adults while they argued. She didn't have to wait long. When they were done, her biological mother risked one last hesitant glance at her._

 _She didn't want her to feel guilty, because she didn't hold anything against her, so she said, looking up at her for the last time, "It's okay. I knew we wouldn't be together long."_

 _And then she left for good, and she stopped being her mother._

 _That day, she met her real dad and her real mom, and they called Nana, and she met her too. She had seen them before, and she had been looking forward to it._

 _She remembered her mom asking for her name and replying that she didn't have one. She remembered that her face and her dad's fell, and they looked like they were about to cry, and she felt bad because she hadn't meant to make them sad._

 _She remembered Nana taking her tiny hands firmly in her wrinkled ones, and asking her with a soothing voice, "How do you like Makoto?"_

 _And Makoto remembered smiling for the first time._

—

It wasn't often that Makoto was hit by the realization of how small she was, but when she woke up, at the hour that marked the shift between too late and too early, she felt like a cog in a gargantuan machine, a small piece that, however insignificant looking, if absent would make everything else collapse.

She knew what she had seen, sort of, and though the final outcome of some of her latest premonitions hadn't been what she expected, one fact still stood true: everything she had seen, had happened. And something inside of her told her that she had something to do to help.

Why would she want to help, she didn't know. It may have been the influence of the tunnel, making her think in ways she shouldn't, or pointing her in the right way to use her power. She didn't know, and she didn't need to.

She sat up in her bed, noticing the only extra inhabitant on it that night wasn't Doraemon. Fumiko had fallen asleep sitting on the floor, resting her head and arms on the bed covers. In the dead of the night it was easy to notice her lively, crisp, energetic aura. Makoto had hated it when they were children. Fumiko had been the equivalent of a person throwing rocks at her mind every time they met.

With time, she had grown used to her. And for reasons Makoto had never fully grasped, Fumiko had never let go.

The light that came through the window, open to allow the breeze to pass, was dim and warm, and it stained Fumiko's copper hair in the color of red hot iron, making it look like it could sear the material around her. Makoto softly ran a hand through Fumiko's incandescent locks to wake her up. The reaction, as expected, was immediate.

"Are you okay?" Fumiko shot at her, jolting awake instantly and leveling a worried stare at Makoto. She had dark circles under her eyes, her make up was a little smudged, and the haircut Shizuru had given her was in disarray. "I've never seen you pass out like that for so long – Fuck, what hour is it, even?" With a short glance, she checked Makoto's nightstand clock. It signaled 5:03 in the morning.

Apparently, Makoto had been out cold for ten hours.

"I'm fine," she replied, the picture of tranquility. She felt oddly, eerily calm, and she still didn't know why. If the hand of fate had taken this opportunity to direct her and make Makoto do her will, it couldn't have happened at a better moment. Makoto felt as if nothing could go wrong.

Perhaps it was a sensation born of witnessing too many deaths through the eyes of others that ended up being, well, not so bad. Perhaps it was that the weight of lying to her parents had lifted after realizing they didn't care what she was, and that relief was too great to be overshadowed so early by anything else. Perhaps it was the fact that she had unequivocal proof that, despite his nature, Kurama was human, after all, and that was enough to make her feel at ease.

But whatever the reason was, she didn't feel like worrying, because she had things to do. She slipped from under the sheets and got up.

"Where do you think you are going?"

Makoto opened her closed and pulled out a grey, light hoodie. "To the forest," she replied.

"Now? Why? What did you see?"

"Many things," Makoto said, looking for a usable pair of jeans. "None that I can really put in context, but one that, I think, does matter."

Fumiko groaned. "Not the time to be cryptic, Mako. Do you know how worried we were? I had to send your parents to sleep myself, heck, even Minamino only went home a couple of hours ago after we were absolutely sure you were alright and—"

Makoto cut her, still unrattled. "I know I made you worry. Sorry."

Fumiko, however, refused to pipe down, and she moved her hands furiously while she spoke. "Don't be sorry, just tell me what's going on! What mess are you in this time? Heck, what's happened to your dad – you know why that's happened, don't you? Why won't you tell me? Aren't we friends?"

Makoto's hands went still around the fabric of the jeans she has just picked. It took her a few seconds to reply. "Sorry," she repeated. "I never meant to push you away. I only wanted to keep you safe."

The story of her life, Makoto thought. Kurama was right. They were more alike than she'd realized.

"I know that…" Fumiko said, sounding briefly defeated, but then she exploded again. "Agh, don't make me feel bad about calling you out now!"

Makoto smiled a little at her reaction, though it was promptly replaced by a solemn look. "Someone out there is opening a portal to the Demon World."

"That... sound bad," Fumiko said, apparently at a loss for words. She'd find them soon, surely.

"It is as dangerous as it sounds," Makoto concurred. "We do not know who it is or what are their motives, but Yuusuke has been asked to investigate it. And…" She paused, and with a tinge of resignation said, "you have already seen some of its effects."

"Huh? Why? Don't you say the portal isn't open yet?"

"But the connection to the other side is, and its influence is seeping into this world. Mushiyori city, for example," Makoto began putting on the clothes she had selected, "is infested by giant demon bugs."

Fumiko bristled at that. "Zombifying giant demon bugs?"

"Nope. Just run of the mill, disgusting giant demon bugs."

Fumiko looked entirely too relaxed when Makoto didn't confirm her fears, but it seemed to reassure her, and she switched subjects. "And where did you and Minamino go earlier? Was it really the Spirit World? It's knds hard to believe…"

"Technically, the only thing required to go to the Spirit World is not having a physical body. Someone with training can leave it behind and just… float their way up, I guess. Provided they know where they are going."

Makoto got stuck in the middle of pulling on the hoodie and Fumiko went to her rescue.

"You really grilled King Enma's son?"

"Yes. He knows who the enemies are, and got him to promise he'd tell us everything today."

"Those assholes," Fumiko said, placing her hand on her hips and pursing her lips. "I don't like them just by hearing you talk about them."

"He is not that bad. Koenma, I mean."

Fumiko blinked owlishly. "I don't know who you are anymore."

Makoto didn't reply to that. Instead, she took Fumiko's face between her hands and stared directly at her. "Fumi, I need you to do me a favor."

Fumiko settled down. "What is it?"

"I need you to call—" She caught herself just short of saying Kurama. "—Minamino at a more reasonable hour. I would do it myself, but I will be in the middle of nowhere. Tell him I went to find Hiei and that I will be at Yuusuke's before noon."

Fumio made a face. "So my job's to be a messenger. Yaaaay."

"Why are you complaining?" Makoto asked her. "You are getting Minamino's number."

Fumiko grinned so widely that Makoto wondered if she had made a terrible mistake. "I've sworn off men for now, but I guess I could sell it."

"Don't you dare."

—

Makoto hopped on the first train of the day and made her way to the same spot where she had been to, time after time, with Kurama, Kuwabara and Hiei before the tournament. The place, she recalled, that Hiei had shown them. The place that he could have kept to himself, but freely offered so Kuwabara had a place to practice.

She had no proof that he'd be there, other than a hunch, and the feeling that he wouldn't want to stay too far away from Yukina and the guys.

In just a little over an hour, Makoto found herself trekking through the forest attentively, though not with any urgency. Hiei would be found when he wanted to, not when she did.

Or that had been her train of thought before spending nearly an hour going in circles with squirrels and birds rustling leaves and making her paranoid. After that, she decided she was on a schedule and Hiei wasn't going to mess with it.

She walked to the clearing they'd been using to train and said, not particularly loudly, "I have Botan's whistle and I am not above using. You have sixty seconds. Fifty-nine. Fifty-e—"

"Are you so eager to die?" Hiei said right behind her, and Makoto might have jumped out of her skin and ascended directly to the Spirit World had her continuous association with Kurama not prepared her superbly for this exact circumstance.

Instead, she turned to face him unperturbed.

The sun was already visible through above the trees, casting elongated shadows everywhere. She didn't have much time to lose.

"Yuusuke is going to die today," she shot at Hiei point blank. No point in cushioning it.

Hiei's eyes went wide briefly, but he was back to practiced indifference in a split second. "If you've come here to ask for help, you've wasted your time."

"I have not," she said. On both accounts.

Hiei looked at her skeptically, as if he didn't believe what she was saying. "What, then?"

Makoto knew better than to try to beg, guilt-trip or blackmail him. Firstly, because she was, actually, not eager to die. And secondly, because all of those would be counterproductive, and she knew that as soon as she had made her opening statement, her job was done.

She had just come to give him a small push. An unneeded one, possibly, but she could never be too sure.

"I felt like you should know. That is all."

Hiei's piercing stare bore into her, dissecting her without compassion, looking for the smallest sign that would denote second intentions. It was the stare, she thought, of a person whose life had hinged too many times on those signs. Makoto wondered if he'd use his Jagan with her again, but that didn't happen. And even if he had, as Makoto had been told several times in her life, she was honest to a fault, and she had nothing to fear – well, unless he found out she didn't have the whistle. But it was true that she had come to relay this piece of information. Nothing more, nothing less.

At last, Hiei said, feigning disinterest, "I didn't realize you had so much free time that you could afford to waste it like this."

She held back the urge to smile at the jab, and she didn't reply to it. With a small dip of her head, she bid him farewell. "Have a nice return trip."

"What are you talking about?"

Makoto did her best to look puzzled and blinked a couple of times. "Weren't you sticking around just so you could use the tunnel to go back home?"

Hiei's face went blank, then his brow knitted gradually as he stared at Makoto like he had never really seen her before.

She turned to leave, and Hiei only spoke when she had stepped out of the clearing.

"Kurama is rubbing off on you," he said disdainfully.

When she tried to look back at him, now genuinely confused, he was nowhere to be found.

—

It was Atsuko who opened the door when Makoto got to Yuusuke's apartment.

"Morning, Mako! How've you been?" She asked cheerfully.

Makoto couldn't help but smile at her sight, even if she was reminded of her vision of Yuusuke. She concentrated on Atsuko's face, but no images, no feelings came to her. Maybe something drastic could help?

"Atsuko, can I ask you a favor? It is for the case."

Atsuko peered curiously at her. "Sure, but if it's money you need you're outta luck, kid."

"Nothing of the sort," Makoto replied, not quite believing what she was about to ask. "May I hug you?"

Atsuko's arms spread at the same time a huge grin did. "What kinda question is that? Come here!"

Makoto had no time to react before she was enveloped in a bear hug that smelled of fabric softener, cheap perfume and a tinge of alcohol.

She awkwardly hugged back.

Still nothing.

What little worries Makoto may have harbored about Yuusuke vanished. If Atsuko was going to find shortly that her son had died, the emotion would have hit Makoto like a truck. Instead, she just felt a warm, easy-going aura wrapping around her, hints of loneliness hiding underneath, but everything else weighed so much more it was barely an afterthought. This was not the vibe that a woman with a soon to be dead son would give off.

On the other hand, that begged the question of what, exactly, Makoto had seen. Or, more precisely, if Kurama had misinterpreted what he had seen. It was hard to imagine. But no matter what it was, it was going to tear him apart, and Makoto wished there was a way to keep him from going through that.

The thought made her sad, and she clung to Atsuko earnestly.

Makoto could not remember if she had ever hugged her mom like this.

Yuusuke chose that instant to barge into their little moment. "What's taking you so long, mo— Hey, Makoto!"

Makoto let go of Atsuko, and the older woman slapped her on the back with satisfaction. Yuusuke grinned as well. Like mother, like son.

"Hey right back at you."

"Kurama told us how awesome you were yesterday! Wish I could've seen Koenma's face." He held a fist towards her, and Makoto bumped her with her own.

"I am always objectively awesome," she said with as much outward enthusiasm as usual.

Yuusuke snickered hard and led her to the living room, where Genkai and Kurama were already sitting at a table with several cups of tea. The serious atmosphere was a stark contrast to the Urameshis' high spirits.

"Master Genkai?" Makoto said, surprised, when she crossed the door. "When did you arrive?"

"Right after I left your parents with your friend Fumiko." She huffed. "Hideki is more of a handful than when he was a kid. Who would've thought he'd get worse?" She complained, and took a sip of her tea.

There was the sound of a toilet cistern and a faucet somewhere in the house, and right on cue, Kuwabara appeared in the room, looking considerably beat up but energetic, nonetheless.

"Yo, Makoto! How are you doing?" He greeted her as he took a seat. "They've told us what happened at your home."

Makoto snuck a short, wary look at Kurama, worrying about how much he'd told them. He answered her silent question with a discreet shake of his head, easily missable to anyone that wasn't looking for it. Her shoulders drooped a little, relieved of tension, and Yuusuke patted them as he passed her.

"Sounds rough," he said sympathetically. "I can't imagine what I'd do if my mom—"

"I can hear you, you twit!" Atsuko said form another room.

Yuusuke replied by sticking his tongue at the wall.

"Was everything all right at home?" Kurama asked.

Makoto was fairly certain that he wasn't referring to her parents, and replied in kind. "Yes. No more surprises."

Genkai glanced at Makoto, but didn't say anything.

Kurama nodded faintly, though his eyes lingered on her, unreadable and analytical. She could never know with certainty what went through his head, how much he noticed, and that alone made him much scarier than Hiei's smoldering stare. It was evident he wanted to ask what she had seen, but not in front of everybody, because whether it had been his past or his future, Makoto's state alone had told him that it wasn't something he wanted to divulge.

And though Makoto couldn't know what he was thinking, if she went by his behavior other times, she was probably going to be subject to constant scrutiny until she proved that her treatment of him wasn't going to change. Not that he had to worry about that, as far as Makoto was concerned, but he wasn't the type to go on a limb and assume someone wouldn't think the worst of him if given the chance. For a person so smart, Makoto thought, he could be exceedingly dense when it came to relationships.

"You sure were busy yesterday," Kuwabara said with a tired sigh. "It's like everything's trying to go down at once."

"Yeah, and you had to choose that moment to go to a freaking concert," Yuusuke rebutted.

Maybe she was a naturally salty person, but even Makoto could smell the saline concentrations in the air right before the argument broke out.

"I didn't choose the date and I sure as hell wasn't going to miss a Megallica concert!"

"You nearly got your ass out of commission, dumb—"

Kurawabara scrambled out of his chair. "Shut up, Urameshi, you'd have done the same in my—"

Yuusuke followed suit. "You think I'm as stupid as you—"

"You wanna solve this like men?" Kuwabara asked, cracking his knuckles.

Yuusuke grinned diabolically. "I see you've missed my punches."

Makoto tuned out of the argument for a beat, and when she registered what was going on, she asked, dumbfounded, "You went to the Megallica concert?"

Kuwabara's head whipped towards her, flabbergasted. "Are you gonna get on my case too?!"

Makoto shot up from her chair in awe and slammed her hands on the table. "How did you get a ticket?!"

Kuwabara's face brightened like a child who had just been given a new pet. "You like Megallica?! I queued for days to buy it!"

Makoto hid her face behind her hands, not caring about all the stares concentrated on her. "I knew I should have. My parents didn't—" Her breath hitched then, and with sudden realization, she removed her hands end extended them towards Kuwabara. "Give me your hands!"

"Uh—what?"

"Kuwabara. This is important," she insisted with extreme urgency.

A little weirded out, Kuwabara obeyed, and when Makoto took his hands in hers they stayed like that for a few seconds, until Makoto's face fell, she let go, and she crumbled on her chair, dropping her head on the table and hiding it between her arms. "Why does it never work when I want it to?" She whined.

The one reply she got to that came from Genkai, a morose, "I have severely underestimated the amount of idiots I'm surrounded by."

Makoto was to disappointed to care. She had missed the Megallica concert, the only way she had to relive it was through Kuwabara's recollections, and she couldn't even access those. Her new power _sucked_.

 _One, two, three._

It was then that the doorbell rang, and everybody stood to attention as Atsuko opened the door once again. Soon after, the prince of the Spirit World came into view, and he regarded his audience somberly as he readjusted the scarf over his shoulder.

"Good morning, everyone," Koenma said, and Makoto didn't detect any abrasiveness in his attitude, even when his gaze fell on her and Kurama. Koenma was, above all, a professional. "I suppose it is time you got answers."

"Damn right it is," Yuusuke agreed. "Sit down. You aren't leaving until you tell us everything you know."

Koenma let out a contained sigh, but he did as told, and Makoto found herself, for the second time in her life, sitting next to one of the rulers of the Spirit World.

Fumiko's appreciation had been right on point. Makoto didn't know herself anymore, either.


	17. Chapter 17

With this chapter, we are closing the Sensui saga. I think I'll make a small pause now to lay out a detailed plan of everything I want to do, so I suppose the next update won't go up until next month. And oh boy, do I have plans. I'm excited for this next part.

I'm a little concerned about this chapter, because Makoto's perspective was very restraining during this section. One thing I've wanted to avoid in this fic is taking away from other characters to fit Makoto in or shoving her where she didn't make sense, and it limited me a lot in this part of the story. I think I managed to keep true to what I intended, but I'm afraid that the end result may have suffered for it. You'll be the judge of that.

Also, I want to say that at this point of the day I've been editing this for six hours straight under a scorching heat and I need to release it before I lose my mind.

Thanks everybody as always for reading and reviewing, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'd love to hear your thoughts about how it has turned out, if you have a moment to spare.

 **Kalmaegi:** Makoto may have the soul of a bitter old woman, but she's still a kid. I'm curious about those series now, at this rate I'll end up watching them, haha. And yeah, Yuusuke is the kind of person you don't need to worry about unless you want to go nuts. He always finds a way.

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

 _One, two, three._

Makoto turned to look at the window before the first bullet was shot. At the same time, Kuwabara jumped out of his chair and ran to the room where Botan and Mitarai, the boy who had attacked him the night before, were.

The enemy had brought the fight to them instead of waiting, and the assault to Yuusuke's home had begun when they were still in the living room discussing their plan of action.

Kurama, Yuusuke and Genkai ran towards the window. Makoto stayed a few paces behind, examining the two figures that stared back at them from the top of the opposite building. A young man in a red leather jacket and an older man clad in black stood at the top of the directly opposing building.

Though the one shooting at them was the first, it was the other one who caught Makoto's attention.

She had been too little to be aware of the danger he posed to her, back when he had been active, but his name still got whispered in the shadows of the city's supernatural underworld, like a boogeyman, people too scared to say it out loud in case that it summoned him. Nobody survived an encounter with Shinobu Sensui, the tale told. He was a living legend, and the trail of demon blood he had left in his wake before suddenly falling off from the face of the Earth hadn't left anybody indifferent.

Makoto had been gotten so used to Yuusuke's open, easy-going demeanor that she had started to forget what being a Spirit Detective meant.

And she knew, as soon as her eyes flicked to Shinobu Sensui's face, that this was a dying man, and that he would be the one to kill Yuusuke.

It was subtler than with most people, but it hid behind his strength, a decaying aura with fraying dark edges that peeked out irregularly. An outstanding physical condition and sheer willpower were the two things maintaining him alive, but once she noticed the signs, there was no denying that this man was terminally ill.

So why did it feel like it didn't matter?

Makoto followed at the tail of the group as they ran to street level. Only Botan and Mitarai remained in the apartment.

Sensui was so tall and lanky that it looked like he could snap in two like a tree twig, but the vibe he gave off said another thing. Makoto couldn't put her finger on what it was, but there was something shifty about his aura; the same quality that masked his physical deterioration, the feeling that there was something else hiding below, and being aware that she was missing something, but not what it was, made her anxious.

Koenma warned Yuusuke about getting close to Sensui, so, evidently, the first thing Yuusuke did was approach him.

Sensui formed a reiki sphere and kicked it towards them, missing Yuusuke and curving towards a building to hit his home. The clash created an explosion, and Yuusuke sent Koenma and Genkai to check up on the people inside. Makoto, who had stepped in front of Atsuko to shove her out of the way when Sensui shot the ball, pushed her to go with the other two before things got actually ugly on the street.

Makoto should have gone with her, too, but she felt like she'd be missing something important if she did.

Yuusuke and Sensui began to trade blows, and though Yuusuke seemed faster, Sensui kept parrying his blows with his arms and using Yuusuke's momentum against him. Hard to believe as it was, after witnessing Yuusuke take down a beast like Toguro, the current battle felt closer to a practice match between an angry kid and his senior than a fight.

Kuwabara, able to manifest his power again, jumped in on the action when he saw Yuusuke couldn't touch Sensui, but he was blown off as easily, and when Kurama tried to intervene, a jeep appeared out of nowhere and a blocky man stretched fingers like vines and captured Kuwabara.

Makoto remembered that face. It was the last thing the half-demon she had met at the bar saw before dying. Before being _eaten_.

The situation had spiraled out of control in the blink of an eye: the enemy had escaped, Kuwabara had been kidnapped, Yuusuke had stolen a bike to give them chase, and Makoto hadn't been able to do anything other than watch and try not to be in the way.

She didn't notice how rigid she was, fingers tightly coiled around the cuffs of her hoodie and every muscle in her body in tension, until Kurama came up to her when he made for the apartment.

"Are you okay?"

She kept staring at the last point where she'd seen Yuusuke.

Something crucial was escaping her.

Makoto looked at Kurama from the corner of her eye and made a conscious effort to loosen up. "Better worry about the ones inside."

Thanks to Koenma, they had a culprit, a place, and no time to waste wondering. Thinking could take a backseat for the time being.

—

The next few hours were a frenzy: checking out that everybody in the flat was all right, having Koenma leave for some reason he couldn't disclose, Atsuko shooing them all out so she could make up something when the police came to investigate the explosion, contacting Yanagisawa and Kaitou to let them know they were going to Irima Cave, and finally making their way there and hope that Yuusuke hadn't jumped headfirst into danger, as he was prone to do.

They knew they were at the right place when they saw the truck that had been used to kidnap Kuwabara next to the cave's opening. And at last, when dusk was drawing near, a shirtless Yuusuke appeared accompanied by none other than Hiei.

The eyes of the latter lingered on Makoto for the briefest of moments, and she returned the look without comments. There was no hostility coming from him, no judgement. It was a gesture of acknowledgement. While Makoto couldn't know if what she had told him had made him keep an eye on Yuusuke, she felt relieved that she hadn't angered him and kept him away, at the very least.

Yuusuke provided them with a quick summary of his afternoon and confirmed that the Sniper was out of commission thanks to Hiei. Four enemies remained, according to what intel they had.

What Makoto didn't see coming, though she should have suspected it, was Genkai suggesting that Kurama, Yuusuke and Hiei headed into enemy territory alone. Mitarai offered to accompany them through the labyrinthine passages of the cave, and thus the strike team was formed.

Makoto didn't usually disagree with Genkai, but she didn't like this plan one bit. As much as there could be a trap for them inside – of course there would be a trap, Sensui was well aware that they were coming – Makoto thought that it was a bad idea to divide their forces, and that going all together into the enemies' lair made way more sense that splitting up and maybe having half of them not do anything at all while the others risked their lives.

But since nobody else raised any concerns, she kept it in, and she watched them go with a knot in her stomach, eyes set on Yuusuke, wondering if this was the last time she would see him.

Her uncertainty was temporarily alleviated in the span of three hours, give or take, when Yuusuke's group reemerged from the cave. The black clouds threatening to rain down lighting on them and the Demon World bugs were still hovering around, so that meant the construction of the tunnel was still going. They had hit a roadblock.

"We ran into some weird territory," Yuusuke said before being prompted, rubbing his nose. "There's a door and we need seven people to cross it."

"We suspect we'll need to play a videogame when we're inside." Kurama elaborated. "Game Battler, to be more specific."

Yanagisawa's eyes lit up. He was as eager to lend a hand, and hadn't welcomed being left outside of the action. He pointed a thumb at himself. "I've played that one a few times! Count me in!"

"Me too," Genkai said, attracting several odd looks.

"Right," Makoto said in a monotone, "you had the arcade installed earlier this year…" It was the only time that Makoto had played the game a little, and she'd had to pay for it.

Genkai responded to her comment with a victory sign.

"I believe I could be of assistance as well," Kaitou said.

"Cool, that makes seven!" Yuusuke declared. "Let's—"

Surprised that she was being left out again so soon, Makoto stopped him. "Wait. I will go too. I do not want to be still if I can help it."

"Eeeh?!" Botan complained. "You're leaving me alone?"

Makoto flinched internally, seeing her chances to tag along disintegrate once more, but unexpectedly, Genkai wasn't against her proposal.

"It's not a bad idea," she said. "You lot say we need to cross a door, but we don't know what's behind. If it's a trap and she stays outside, she can sound the alarm, even if she can't get us out."

A weight lifted off Makoto's shoulders. No one would argue against Genkai.

Kurama's expression was cold, though, when Yuusuke announced that they were going in again to kick some asses. Makoto didn't need to be a mind reader to know he'd rather she stayed with Botan.

Mitarai had been right. The cave was impossible to navigate unless you already knew where you were going. It took them over an hour and a half to reach the gate with a relief of a capital G that they hadn't been able to cross before. Prudent as ever, Kurama had been marking the right path with luminescent flowers at every split, so if they needed to head back without Mitarai they wouldn't be irredeemably lost.

Makoto didn't miss the implications of what not having Mitarai on the way back meant.

A high pitched voice suddenly boomed in the cave.

"Huh? You brought one to many. Someone's gonna have to stay outside."

Makoto supposed that if they were being watched, the person on the other side could also hear them, and replied, "That would be me."

"Are you sure?" The voice countered. "You're going get bored. This game can be _looong_."

Everything was long and drawn out that day. The entire setup of the cave was a time sink in itself, no doubt chosen by their enemies to buy them time.

"I will live."

There was a hum. "Suit yourself," the voice said petulantly, and the door opened with a jingle.

Some of them took one last glance at Makoto before heading in, and she sent them off with a nod, watching impassively as the gate closed and separated her from her companions once again. The only sound she could hear from her spot was that of the game effects and music.

She touched the huge metal doors. They felt real, but a _different_ part of real. That's what territories were, essentially.

Resigned, she released a short sigh and set out to find somewhere comfortable to sit, hoping that this ordeal didn't take more time than they had already wasted with the extra trips, and pondering if Koenma would be back before things went completely pear-shaped.

She waited.

And waited.

And _waited_.

The owner of the territory couldn't have been more wrong. Makoto wasn't getting bored. She was growing increasingly anxious, and she fidgeted incessantly with her hood's strings as her mind couldn't stay quiet.

Powerlessness was a feeling that Makoto wasn't used to.

Hours trickled down like the water drops from the stalactites in the cave, slow, agonizing, silence only interrupted by sporadic game jingles coming from the other side of the door.

If they were still playing, it meant they were alive. But time kept passing, and not even the territory that physically blocked their path could conceal the energy emanating from the other side.

Deep down, in that part of her being she didn't allow herself to think much about, she was eager for the tunnel to open.

Kurama had told Yuusuke at the House of the Four Dimensions that it was the influence of the tunnel what put Hiei on edge, that it affected every single one of them, and Makoto had thought she understood what he meant. But it wasn't until that point in time, sitting for too long on damp bedrock, counting the minutes until the territory was brought down, that she knew.

The Demon World pulled them in.

Makoto couldn't describe it in any other way. The yearning, the sensation of being in the wrong place, of not belonging, only intensified the more she approached the tunnel and the closer it was to completion. And she noticed, not without some apprehension, that much like it had happened when she'd seen Yuusuke die again, she wasn't worried that the door to the other side was about to be open. She felt budding excitement at the prospect.

Of course, it had to be stopped for the good of humans. Makoto could live with her disappointment if it meant avoiding a massacre. But it got her thinking, because she had nothing better to do, and the attraction the tunnel exerted over her was too strong to ignore.

If she, who had never set foot in the Demon World, already felt this way, what was going through Kurama's and Hiei's heads, who had lived nearly all their lives there?

 _Wide. Untamed. Unforgiving._

Those had been Kurama's words months ago, when she had asked him about it. He said he missed it. That he didn't regret leaving it behind.

The realization that, until that moment, she had been a mere kid thinking she was playing a game at the same level as the adults, dropped on her like a bucket of freezing water.

She had thought he must have found something incredibly important in the Human World. What she had never been aware of was the magnitude of that statement. A centuries long life where he was famous and feared and free, swapped for a human life in a quiet suburban neighborhood, forced to take on the role of a fifteen-year old and keep a façade of normality when, in truth, he couldn't shake off the remnants of his old life. No one with power like his, demon or human, could have. The paranormal always found its way.

And he thought it was all worth it. Everything he had renounced to and could have claimed back years ago.

Makoto may have heard tales about Kurama before meeting him, but if there was any justice in the three worlds, those stories should have been talking about what Shiori Minamino had accomplished.

Something on the other side wavered, and perhaps it was because she had been thinking about him, but she sensed a spike of youki that belonged to Kurama.

Makoto got up and took several steps back as reality on the other side of the door collapsed, and the door flickered until it disappeared.

Her friends stood safe and sound. There was a gaming system in the middle of the room, Kurama with his back to the entrance, and a child's body on the floor, only a few steps away.

Makoto's first instinct was to step back again. He was seething with barely restrained anger, composed on the outside, but surrounded by a sharp, cutting aura ready to lash out at a minimal provocation.

Makoto had never been afraid of Kurama until that moment, but now she didn't dare take a step forward.

And it wasn't just her. Even Yuusuke flinched when he tried to speak to him.

Hiei walked ahead with both, while, to Makoto's surprise, Kaitou picked up the kid from the floor and carried him in his arms. Yanagisawa tried not to look at them as he began to walk towards Makoto.

She watched Kurama, Hiei, Yuusuke and Mitarai disappear into the depths of the cave, suddenly feeling not so sure that everything would turn out all right.

The air hung heavy around them on the way outside. Makoto didn't ask what had happened, since it was easy enough to piece together and the details weren't important.

She glanced at the dead child, cradled between Kaitou's arms.

' _this is not who I am anymore'_

The thought resounded in her memory with each step they took, sending chills down her spine, the feeling of helplessness getting stronger and mixing with her own.

They had been retracing their steps for the better part of an hour when they came face to face with Koenma. He looked at all of them, until his eyes fell on Amanuma at last.

"One of the enemies, I assume."

"Nobody could leave his territory unless he died, not even himself," Genkai explained. "It was the only way."

"You did what you had to," he replied, and his brow knit as he stared at Amanuma. "To think that such a young child would go along with Shinobu's plans…"

Then, to everyone's surprise, including Genkai's, he took out his pacifier, and it began to glow with reiki. He held it above Amanuma and a blinding blast of reiki lit up the cave all of a sudden.

When Makoto was able to see again, Amanuma was breathing, a warm, bright aura enveloping him, and Koenma was putting the pacifier back in his mouth.

"Is he alive?" Yanagisawa asked, not quite believing what he was seeing.

"It's a technique to recall souls from the afterlife," he said. "Ordinarily I wouldn't use it, but these are extraneous circumstances. We pulled you into this mess. It isn't fair for you to bear this weight."

Koenma, Makoto had slowly come to realize, was a noble person in every sense of the word. This wasn't the first time he stuck out his neck for them while he could be watching the events unfold from his office.

The light emanating from Amanuma dimmed until he didn't look like anything but a regular, sleeping child.

"I'll be going. Be careful on the way out," Koenma said once the visible effects of his power were gone.

If Makoto had to find a reason for speaking up, she would assume she did it because the influence of the tunnel wasn't letting her think completely straight, or because she wanted to find out what would really happen to Yuusuke, or make sure that Kurama was okay, or—

"Koenma—"

—because she truly, deeply wished to see the path to the Demon World with her own eyes.

He looked straight at her, serenely, knowing what she was asking for even if she wasn't going to say it out loud, and he gave her the answer both of them knew was the right one.

"I can't let you come along in good conscience."

And that was that.

If she went with them, she wouldn't be of any help. At worst, she would get in the way.

Makoto had never been an action person, so she had never properly valued how much strength it took to sit out a battle you wanted to be in. It had been different in the tournament, because she had no business joining a team that had been handpicked by the organizers. It was a matter the guys and Genkai had needed to solve entirely on their own.

In this case, the only thing preventing her to lend her aid was her own incapability. She wasn't needed. Or worse, she was, but she wasn't at a level that allowed her to help.

That last bit was what made it sting harder.

The look Genkai shot her made clear that she knew exactly what was going through her head, and if that hadn't been clear enough, she confirmed it with what she said as Koenma left them behind. "Sometimes, part of winning the battle is knowing when to stay out of it."

Makoto nodded almost imperceptibly. It was sensible advice, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

By the time they were outside the cave, it was deep night and the clouds had cleared to let through a starry sky.

As soon as she saw them come out, Botan hurried to set up a blanket in the truck to lay down a sleeping Amanuma. She was the type who needed to do something when she was nervous, and she talked as she moved about.

"Lord Koenma told me to alert the Spirit World if there's an earthquake." She sounded agitated. "That will be the signal that the tunnel is complete."

"What will they do?" Yanagisawa asked.

"I don't know."

"Then the question is, what can they do?" Kaitou asked sharply.

Botan stared at him in confusion. "What can the Spirit World do?" She said, not following entirely what he was aiming for.

"I believed the point of putting people like Minamino and Urameshi on the case was because stopping the creation of the tunnel was of the utmost importance," Kaitou said.

"That's right," said Botan resolutely. "The task of the Spirit Detective and his team is to take care of emergencies like this!"

"But alerting the Spirit World should their mission be unsuccessful would suggest that you have other means to stop it. Is the Spirit world not putting all of its resources at our disposal?"

Botan was taken aback by the accusation. "Of course it is! Even Prince Koenma came down here to help! We are taking this crisis very seriously!"

"Don't grill her," Genkai said to Kaitou. "She's just a middlewoman. If there was anything shady at play, her superiors wouldn't let her know."

Botan's head whipped around to Genkai. "So you too think there is?" She asked incredulously.

"Doesn't the Spirit World have its own self-defense force?"

"Well…" Botan hesitated. "Yes, it does…"

"And is that force less competent than a Spirit Detective with less than half a year of experience?"

Botan looked at Genkai dumbstruck.

"You think we were set up?" Makoto asked Genkai.

"I think that someone up there wasn't taking this problem as seriously as they led us to believe."

"But Lord Koenma…"

"I don't doubt that his heart is in the right place. But what about the rest of the Spirit World government?"

Botan gaped and covered her mouth with a hand. "But that would mean…"

"That either someone very high up has been hindering the investigation through sheer incompetence, that the tunnel is not as big of a threat as we thought, or that somebody wanted it to be open in the first place," Makoto sentenced. "Place your bets."

"If we look at it from that angle, there is one commonality between the three options," Kaitou expanded upon Makoto's guess. "We have been deceived."

In the silence that stretched after Kaitou's statement, Botan and Yanagisawa looked at a complete loss, but it was only him who exploded.

"Are you telling us that we've been risking our necks when those guys could've solved this right away if they wanted? Kido's in the hospital! People have died because of these sick fucks!"

His outburst reminded of the vison she'd had at the bar, and her stomach churned. Had her advice been any help? Was he okay? She hadn't bothered to check again, and a wave of guilt washed over her. What if it was her suggestion precisely what had made him die? Then again he may not have died, but had any of her visions ever lied? Could she reasonably take refuge in uncertainty until she could find out?

Add hypocritical to the pile of things she was feeling that day.

"It is a distinct possibility," Kaitou said grimly.

"What the hell…" He sounded lost and defeated as the anger subsided. "What's the point of everything we've been doing?"

"Calm down," said Genkai, ever the voice of reason. "We can't know if any of this is true. The only thing we should do now is stay alert and wait."

The silence that fell between them felt much heavier than the one they'd experienced on the way out of the cave.

—

There was an earthquake.

At the same time, somewhere in the city, a wide pillar of golden energy broke from underground and shot up like an endless tower towards the sky.

Without wasting any time, Botan materialized her oar and rode it towards the sky as the others could do nothing but watch, leaving her body behind and freaking out Yanagisawa. She hadn't hesitated one second, and she'd launched upwards with an absolutely determined look on her face.

The wait for the reaction of the Spirit World wasn't long. Before Botan was able to come back, several beams of light came down the sky and rushed into the cave, leaving them behind without a single explanation of what was going to happen. In the middle of the blinding light, Makoto was barely able to distinguish a group of men and women in armor.

The rulers of the Spirit World were such because they commanded impressive power. Makoto had difficulty thinking that things could have gone so awry if Koenma was in the cave, and even more difficulty believing that these people would be able to solve something all the others put together couldn't.

Makoto didn't have time to give it more thought before Botan came back to them in a hurry, her countenance grave. She entered her body and got up, saying, "I have never seen so much tension in the Spirit World. There's no telling what is going to happen."

"Did you speak to king Enma?" Makoto asked.

"Yes, but he didn't tell me anything at all."

Makoto nodded. She had expected something like that.

Kaitou pushed up his glasses. It was more of a nervous gesture than a necessity. "Still, if they actually are worried, it points to the incompetence theory."

"That may be so," Makoto replied, and though her distaste towards particular Spirit World workers had waned recently, her disgust towards its overall structure had not, "but…"

She put aside the list of qualms she was going to relay to Kaitou when Amanuma stirred in the truck.

The kid Kurama had killed. Makoto just hoped he'd come back alive from the cave to see that he had been brought back to life.

"Where…" Amanuma said with a weak voice.

"We are outside the cave," Genkai explained without a trace of compassion in her voice, but no resentment, either. "Our companions are inside fighting Sensui, and you have been revived by the prince of the Spirit World. Be grateful that you have a second chance at all."

Amanuma looked shaken, in the verge of tears. "I…" He looked down at his lap, balling his fists to stop the trembling that had taken over his body. "I see…"

He didn't speak more, merely sneaking hesitant looks at the cave's mouth for the remainder of their wait.

Hours passed between grim remarks and idle conversation that never managed to take off. Nobody was in the mood to chat.

And finally, Makoto witnessed a miracle for the third time in her life.

Way past midnight, the guys emerged from the cave along with the Spirit World's SDF, and Makoto realized that, indeed, Yuusuke had died, but as it was becoming usual for him, it didn't stick.

He had lost his shirt and a sneaker along the way, and exchanged them for tribal tattoos that covered his torso, arms, and face, and a mane of wild hair. Even then, none of that was what stood out the most.

He had become a demon. There was no trace of reiki coming from him. And he was so strong that Makoto felt apprehensive just to be in his presence on a very subtle, primal level.

He wasn't the only one whose strength had increased exponentially, either. Kurama, Kuwabara and Hiei also came off radiating more power than they'd had when Makoto and the others had left them.

She remembered staring at the Toguro brothers and feeling the cold sweat build on her temples, exuding power and threat just by standing there. But when she looked at those four, who were now undeniably stronger than anybody in the Toguro team had been, what she felt wasn't fear. It was jealousy.

Jealousy that they had seen the Demon World. Jealousy that they were so ahead of her and had gotten there so fast. Jealousy that they'd been able to help each other while she was left behind.

So, even as the others celebrated that disaster had been averted, she found it hard to join in their enthusiasm. The one thing she could say with honesty, though, is that she was glad to have them back.

—

Powerlessness was a feeling that Makoto wasn't used to.

She used to be a big fish in a small pond, and now that she had reached the ocean she so longed to see, she found herself a microscopic being in comparison to what the whole wide world had to offer.

It was disconcerting. It turned around her life view, and she wasn't so naïve to think that she would be able to come to terms with that soon.

But she would. And it was about time she woke up, she thought.

She wished she could have said that the wrap-up of the case had been clean and easy, that she had been able to start anew with a clear direction and nothing holding her back, but life was never clean, never easy, and Makoto was scarily getting used to her recent lack of clarity.

At home, she had to convince her father to convince her boss to take a few days off, and send him to Master Genkai's temple, because he was a public menace until he learned to keep his territory under control. The discussions in which this was determined were better kept private, given that they were embarrassingly long and convoluted for both parties, to the point that Makoto resorted to shout 'AAAAHHHHH' in a loud, completely unemotional voice and run away every time her dad opened his mouth to tell her something. The psychological warfare seemed to work, and her dad agreed to take a short vacation for the sake of being able to speak to her daughter again. Her mom just found the situation funny. She even cooperated sometimes.

At school, it hadn't passed unnoticed by perceptive students that Makoto, Kurama and Kaitou had been missing school too often, too coincidentally, in the same days. And while Kurama's spotless image and Kaitou's unrestrained nerdiness made them immune to any claims of reprehensible behavior, Makoto's reputation gave her no such benefits among her peers. Her intrinsic weirdness coupled with her association with Fumiko, who kept a precise tally of how many school days she could miss before the faculty had grounds to hold her back a year, had done her no favors in the eyes of the student body, and not even her newfound friendship with two honor students could save her from the rumors. It stood to reason that since Kaitou didn't have any friends, he'd take any thrown his way, and Minamino was always friendly with everybody and he was basically doing community service, that sweet angel.

Makoto wished that she could tell them that he had been actually doing community service for stealing from the ruler of the afterlife just to see their faces.

In less than a school week, she had to clear up with three inquisitive students who dared ask her, because it seemed that Minamino's friendly image was contagious, that she had been suffering from migraines, thank you very much for your concern. She had also told the third one that she could see someone behind his shoulder, and he had gone white, and nobody else had approached her to ask about that subject anymore.

(There had been someone behind, but that had been Takauchi moving a chair a little ways over there, not an apparition. Still, not a lie.)

And then there was the matter of Kurama.

He hadn't talked to her about it, but she had noticed, and she knew he had, that ever since the day of the final fight, there had been something odd about his energy. Kurama's was usually calm, like a river flowing evenly with a hint of a stronger undercurrent below – the kind of place where one went for a swim feeling confident and ended up getting washed away and drowning before they realized what was going on – and now it had started surging, rarely but erratically. Power spikes that were gone as soon as they had come, and if they bothered him, it didn't show on his face.

She knew from the guys' accounts of what had transpired in the cave that Kurama had reverted to his original form by himself. It that was an indication that both of his sides were merging, there was no telling how it would affect his current form. His human life.

It was, to say the least, inconvenient.

And to her, too. Makoto was more attuned to her surrounding energies than the usual person with supernatural abilities, and she found it very difficult to concentrate in class when, every now and then, a sudden energy spike set off all her inner alarms and she had to make an effort not to jolt out of her seat. Her self-preservation instincts were playing a bad joke on her, because she had nothing to fear from Kurama, of all people, but for the life of her she couldn't help it.

After a few days of this routine, she had to ask. She made an effort to catch his eye when the bell rang, and she waited for him around a corner outside the school that not many students passed by. There was something else she needed to do that day before she convinced herself to put it off again, but she could spare some time for him.

He turned the corner five minutes later, looking apologetic and in a hurry. It was likely that somebody had tried to intercept him on the way.

"Sorry," he said. "Did anything happen?"

"You," she replied.

His expression went blank and his brow rose. "Me?"

"Yes, you. Are you all right?"

"Ah." He didn't ask for clarification. He'd probably been waiting for her inquiry. "I am. I think so. Why do you ask?"

Makoto cocked her head. "Why would I not? You are acting strangely, unintentional as it may be."

"It's obvious, isn't it?" He said with a half-smile and a tinge of resignation.

"I have been a hairs breadth away from jumping out of my chair several times today. Forgive me if I found it a little concerning."

The half-smile widened microscopically and Kurama's eyes glinted with mischief, and Makoto thought that was her cue to take off. "My apologies. It has never been my intention to startle you."

Said the guy who had made sneaking up behind people into an art form.

"I thought you were a better liar."

He put his hands in his pockets, his demeanor casual as he glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. "I can lie better for your sake if you'd like, but I'm afraid that for the time being I won't be able to keep my energy down at all times." His smile was mischievous, but he did sound a little sorry about the last part.

Makoto knew perfectly well that he wasn't trying to inconvenience her. She hadn't asked for an apology, and she didn't want it. "Do you think it's related to the liquid Suzuki gave you?"

"I'm sure of it. And with the power I've recently reawakened, I suppose it was too much to ask that I wouldn't need some time to readjust."

She noticed that he didn't seem concerned. It was like he was his own experiment and he was curious about what the result would be.

"Well, as long as it is not troubling you, that is fine."

Kurama smiled sincerely. "Thank you for your concern."

Leave it to him to unearth the gleaming gem of positive emotions under Makoto's snark. He truly had the eye for treasure of a master thief.

Makoto was looking at her shoes and gripping her schoolbag with both hands when she replied, "No need." Then she glanced up to look him in the face. "Sorry for keeping you. I need to go elsewhere. See you tomorrow." And she began her strategic retreat, but was soon stopped and had to turn to face Kurama once more.

"Hold on," he said. "Have you quit running?"

Makoto had no clue where that question had come from nor what he was aiming at with it. "I suppose. I had not given it any thought for a while. Why?"

"I was thinking of resuming the habit, but it's a bit of a chore to do alone."

Makoto was fully aware that Kurama was one of the few people she knew that would get no benefit by losing sleep hours to run laps around his neighborhood. The only explanation, then, was that he was not so subtly asking her to accompany him because he wanted to spend more time with her.

She would have been more flattered had she not been very much lost as to why, but she'd had moments like this when she had started hanging out with Fumiko, too. Sometimes she forgot that friends wanted to spend time with each other. With that realization, Makoto thought she was beginning to understand better the inner workings of the mysterious human emotion called friendship.

And thank goodness that Kurama was a friend. She never, ever wanted to get on his bad side.

So really, she didn't need to think about it.

"Tomorrow at the same time as always?" She asked.

"Fine by me."

The corner of her mouth quirked up a little. "See you then."

Waking up earlier would hurt, she'd admit as much, but it was worth the nuisance if she could steal a bit more time with Kurama. He was notoriously hard to talk to at school without being interrupted and Minamino's mask taking over. It would be for the best.

Now, though, was not the time to linger on such thoughts. She had something she wanted to do, but not quite, and she needed to get going before she chickened out of it again.

A week had passed since the tunnel had been sealed when Makoto returned to the half-demons' bar, this time without Fumiko.

She found Kazama sitting on the steps, smoking a cigarette that smelled absolutely foul.

"Yo," he said with a smirk, but there wasn't much feeling in the word. "What brings you here? Missed us?"

"I am here to report, as we agreed," she replied without emotion. She hesitated before continuing. "And to ask, as well."

His brow rose at that, but he gestured towards the entrance with the hand he was holding the smoke with and then stubbed it on the staircase.

Makoto heeded the invitation and walked into the bar first, noting that there was no way that only a few months prior she wouldn't have dared turn her back on any of these guys without being completely on guard.

The atmosphere was gloomier than usual. Uncomfortable. Restless. Just like she had been feeling.

The mood was so grim that she didn't even get one of the usual mocking greetings or jeers. Many didn't bother looking up from their drinks, and those who did quickly averted their eyes from her.

Yosuke was slumped over a table along with another two. Makoto's footsteps prompted him to look up. "You're here," he said in awe. "Did you know?"

Makoto didn't know what he was talking about. As she looked around, she realized most people in the room were making efforts not to look at her. She stared at Yosuke and waited for him to elaborate.

"He's dead."

Her blood went cold. "Who?"

She knew who. She was just trying to delay the inevitable.

"Sakaguchi. You know, the guy you… you know."

Makoto lowered her eyes, fingers curled tightly around the handle of her bag.

"We just found out today," Yosuke continued. "Cops only found his shoes, an empty wallet and bloodstains. No body. Nothing."

The only sound in the room was that of glasses being drained and refilled.

"I am sorry," Makoto said, feeling guilty that she may have contributed to his fate.

"It was his own damn fault," said another half-demon, sitting at a nearby table.

Makoto looked at him. They had never spoken before.

"He blew off your advice," he said gruffly. "Said the crazy chick's gotta be wrong sometimes. Don't think even he believed what he was saying." He took a drink of his glass and started rummaging in his pocket for a pack of smokes. "Last I heard from him."

There was another silence, until another guy that hadn't intervened before asked, "Was he really eaten?"

Makoto nodded. "There was a man that absorbed others' powers by eating their bodies."

Some people in the room cursed under their breaths.

He clucked his tongue. "He was a son of a bitch, but nobody deserves that."

Other patrons crossed looks and began murmuring.

"That asshole dead?" Said the half-demon from before. "The cannibal."

"Yes."

"Good. Who did it? Urameshi? You?"

"Someone you may have heard of in passing." She looked at Kazama, who was lounging near her, and at Yosuke. "Remember that classmate of mine from a few months ago?"

"Yeah," Kazama said. "That demon. Scary dude."

"It was him."

"Thank him for us."

"Will do."

The atmosphere seemed to relax somewhat after the news of the Gourmet's death, and Makoto was in a better mood now that she knew she hadn't been directly responsible for a death.

Then again, who knew? Maybe if she hadn't said anything, he wouldn't have felt the need to prove her wrong and would have been more careful. But it was pointless to think about it. She had decided long ago that she wasn't going to feel guilty about other people's misfortunes. This was not an exception she wanted to make, and the thoughts had been haunting her for more than it was acceptable.

"Well," Makoto said at the entire room, "If anyone has questions about what has happened, I am here to answer them."

They looked at her expectantly, probably not knowing if they wanted to hear or risk her having a fit again, and she couldn't blame them. But then, one of them, the one that had just lit a smoke, pulled out an empty chair from his table so she could sit.

He nodded at her. "I wanna hear everything."

Makoto looked at him in the eye. He didn't flinch.

"Get comfortable. This may get long."

"We've got all day," he replied.

And though it wouldn't dawn on her until later, when she was home with Doraemon sitting on her lap and an unfinished essay on her desk, it was the first time since she met those guys that she had felt at ease in their presence.

They really weren't all that different, and she wasn't afraid to admit it now.


	18. Chapter 18

I have slightly moved in time one of the events that happen in this chapter just so I could merge a couple of scenes together and save us a hassle. I don't think it's too noticeable, but I wanted to come clean anyway.

That was all I was going to say about this chapter, and then Togashi happened. Specifically, Togashi saying in tome 13 that Shiori Minamino was going to marry in autumn, then saying in tome 18 that she married in July.

If looks could maim through space-time, I would have unintentionally cursed a young mangaka 23 years back in time and now I'd be responsible for the his dubious health and constant hiatuses. Thankfully, they can't, so I am guilt free.

Deciding what to do set me back for a day, because it messed the entire timeline I had thought out for the next chapters. So, in the end, she's going to take a vacation in August and is going to marry at the end of September.

Screw continuity mistakes, seriously.

I counted about six chapters until the end a few days ago, but don't hold me to that because I'm notoriously bad at calculating these things. At any rate, this last stretch is going to be so weird to write…

 **Guest:** Thanks for your review!

 **Kalmaegi:** She is just not used to people. Anyway, one of the reasons I try to avoid putting her in the same situations we've already seen is to avoid the repetition. We already know what happens wherever Yuusuke goes.

* * *

 **Chapter 18**

There is something about constantly watching that which you long for that can consume you.

Always in sight, but out of reach. No matter how much she struggled to grasp it, the tips of her fingers would stop a hair's breadth short of touching it.

All her life, she had thought about herself that way. Too ordinary to have any real power, too different to be human. Always bogged down by her duality, always using it as a reason for what she could not do, a permanent justification for her dissatisfaction.

She couldn't change her nature. It was a fact. It was comfortable.

But had she really done all she could?

The doubt had crept up on Makoto surreptitiously, and now wouldn't let go.

She knew the answer, but she had doubts about the next step.

The world that had opened up upon meeting Kurama and Yuusuke seemed so confining again, from the corner of her small existence. She looked at them, neither fully human or demon in the usual sense, and she saw how far they had gone, even when they had started from the bottom.

Was she so different from them?

Sitting on Genkai's porch, it was so easy to feel the energy emanating from the rocks, the trees, the grass and the talismans and the wood strips under her hands and even the tiles below her feet didn't reach…

She felt like she had awakened from a deep slumber, and she had opened her eyes for the first time in many, many years. She couldn't possibly close them again.

"I should have come here sooner," Makoto's mother said, some ways away, taking in the sights. "This place is so beautiful. Though…" She looked at the temple and the trees on either side, hands resting on her hips. The trees cast leaf-shaped shadows on her face. "It's a little unnerving. As if…" She trailed off and furrowed her brow in thought.

"…As if someone were staring at you from all directions."

"Yes!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together, and she glanced around shiftily. "…Is it?"

"It is possible. Some things escape our comprehension."

Her mother seemed to accept the answer. Her mother accepted many things from her that other people would find absolutely intolerable, to be fair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and they had gone together to the temple to pick up Makoto's father, who had spent the last weeks with Master Genkai so he could learn not to be a public danger.

 _One, two, three._

A paper door behind Makoto slid open, and her dad came out with a big, big sigh of relief.

He looked tired and leaner, and seemed eager to leave the temple grounds behind.

"We're done!" He announced, and Makoto felt his reiki more easily than before, but it was more controlled, as well. It had increased and stabilized.

Makoto was sure that Master Genkai wouldn't have let him go unless he was ready to be introduced back to society, even if she had to make him miss work for longer than expected.

The woman walked onto the porch right behind him, and Makoto got up immediately and bowed so low her nose almost touched her knees.

"My deepest gratitude for the favor you've done—"

"Yes, yes, stand up straight; you're sweeping the floor with your hair."

She obeyed and did her best to keep down the flush rising on her cheeks, putting a lot of concentration on her fidgeting with her bag's strap.

"Thank you, master," her father said, bowing less exaggeratedly. "This has been a blast from the past."

"Indeed it has," Genkai said, sounding very much not impressed. "Now take care and don't make Nana worry from the other side, hm?"

"I'll do my best," he said, smiling affably.

"I know. Now hurry or you'll miss the last train," she waved them away with a disdainful hand.

"Thank you so much!" Makoto's mother said. "I'd like to come back sometime, if you don't mind…?"

"Anytime," Genkai said, contradicting her whole demeanor. "Makoto's family is always welcome here."

That prompted Makoto to look up from her bag. She had mentioned her. Not Nana. _Her_.

Things were changing around her, even if she wasn't moving in any direction. It was up to Makoto to let everybody pass her and leave her behind, or find a way to start walking forward as well.

—

The next day, when she rang the doorbell of the Minamino household, it was Yuusuke Urameshi who opened the door.

"About time!"

She glanced at her watch and saw that she was ten minutes early, locked eyes with Yuusuke long enough to be uncomfortable, bowed curtly and said as she turned around. "Apologies, I must have gotten the wrong house."

Yuusuke caught her by the collar of her floral black dress. "Hold on right there!"

More voices approached.

"What's the matter, Yuu—"

"Urameshi, that's no way to treat a girl""

"Yes, Urameshi, that is no way to treat me."

"Just come inside already!"

Kurama and Kuwabara had gone to the entrance hall to see what the ruckus was about, and Yuusuke wasn't letting her go.

"Good evening, everybody," Makoto greeted them in a very undignified way.

Yuusuke ushered her inside, and Ms. Minamino greeted her from the kitchen as he shoved her in the dining room.

"Yuusuke, it was a joke, I was not going to—" She finally slapped his hand away like one taps a cat's paw when it's about to put it in a plate, only she was more like the skittish cat trying to get away from a grabby human.

With a shake of his head, Kurama went back to the kitchen with his mother, and the rest of them sat around the table.

"I heard about the miracle from Keiko," Makoto started, and Yuusuke squinted at her with suspicion. "You _passed_."

Yuusuke made an angry face and Kuwabara began to snigger.

"Can you believe he's going to graduate from middle school?" Kuwabara said, eyes firmly on Yuusuke and shit-eating grin in full display.

Makoto rose a hand to her chest. "But he will always be fourteen in our hearts."

"Are you two asking for an asskicking?"

"Heaven forbid."

"I'll be the one to hand your ass to you, just say when and where!"

"After diner behind the gard—"

"Makoto," Kurama called from the doorway, paying no attention to the argument. "Mom needs to talk to you."

"Coming right away," she said, shooting up from her chair and following Kurama.

Shiori Minamino was inside her kitchen, stir frying vegetables like a pro and surrounded by enough food for an entire platoon. Kurama made a strategic retreat to carry a few dishes outside.

"Shuuichi said you'll be coming to the wedding this autumn, is that right?" She asked her with a disarming smile Makoto couldn't help but reciprocate.

Well, she smiled her own way. She was pretty sure that if she tried to smile any wider her face would crack and someone would freak out.

"I would not miss it for anything."

The corner of her eyes wrinkled as her smile grew. "I'm glad to hear that. Yuusuke and Kazuma are invited, too, and I was thinking of sitting you together, if that's all right with you?"

It was, in all honesty, a relief. Makoto could handle a day around strangers, but she wasn't so sure strangers could handle _her_ for an entire day, and she didn't want to sour the mood of Ms. Minamino's wedding, of all things. She had imagined herself at a table trying to be social with the bride's family and friends and failing miserably. She may have had a nightmare or two about the subject, even.

"I would like that," she replied.

"I thought you'd be more comfortable like that. I wouldn't want to sit any of you with us old people, anyway." She chuckled under her breath. "Are you bringing anyone with you?"

The unexpected question gave Makoto a case of brain freeze.

Ms. Minamino stared at her waiting for an answer, with that same virtuous smile that seemed to run in the family, and Makoto had the impression that she had yet again been cornered with an apparently innocent question.

"No, I will go by myself."

"Is that so?" Makoto didn't know if it was a trick of the light or the smile had widened a little. "I'll arrange the seats with that in mind."

Makoto couldn't tell if that was a reassurance or a threat. Kurama may have come to the Human World with his personality already set, but he couldn't have chosen a more fitting mother. The resemblance sometimes bordered on the uncanny.

Makoto was still deciding if she should ask if she had any reasons to be afraid when Kurama came back for more dishes. In the background, the argument had died down and the conversation seemed to be friendlier, if still loud.

Ms. Minamino took a glance over her shoulder when she heard her son. "Shuuichi, could you hand me a few plates from the cabinet…?"

"Right away."

There was an overhead one above Makoto, and she ducked out of the way to leave Kurama enough space to reach for a stack that looked heavy and uncomfortable to hold.

"Let me help," Makoto said.

"It's fine, I can—"

She cut him. "I know you can, but it doesn't mean you should." On second thought, that statement was so applicable to him that she thought she should've used it in many more occasions.

She thought she saw the corner of Ms. Minamino's mouth twitch.

With a small sigh of resignation, Kurama let her take some plates from the top of the stack and handed the others to his mother.

"Carry the rest out and stay with the others, I'll be done in no time," she said.

"Are you sure you don't need more help?"

"I can handle myself, son. Go and be a good host."

He smiled warmly at her, and with a small shake of his head, reached towards Makoto to take the tableware from her.

Five plates, all white, save for one that had a small flower pattern around the edge.

Her thumb brushed it when she handed them over, and she gave a start when _he fell backwards, a scream, plates falling from the cabinet and shattering against the floor, but he hit the soft arms of his mother instead of sharp shards, and how can she be smiling when she's bleeding so badly, I need to help her, mom—_

She blinked once, twice, three times, slowly, taking in what she had seen.

Kurama stared at her hesitantly, waiting for a reaction. She didn't think she had been out for more than a few spare seconds, but it was enough to make him notice that something had happened.

She just walked out of the kitchen with him, and said when they were out of Ms. Minamino's earshot, "There's a different plate."

His eyes flicked to the stack he was carrying and widened a fraction in understanding. "The others broke a long time ago," he said.

He didn't ask. She didn't speak again until they were in the dining room.

"She really is something else," said Makoto.

Kurama turned briefly to Makoto with a look she wasn't sure what to make of. Her thoughts went back to that conversation they'd had her newfound power had started manifesting, about privacy and how little right she had to have that window into other's pasts.

"She is," he said with fondness.

And in that moment, Makoto thought she could see what he had found in this world that was so valuable to him.

—

Ms. Minamino insisted that Kurama accompanied her home, though Makoto was by all accounts the most dangerous person roaming the neighborhood at that hour and woe betide the thug that crossed her path, but since they couldn't tell her that, she played along.

It was a quiet walk. They talked about the first term exams, his mother's wedding, Kazuya's son who was apparently called Shuuichi as well, the release of her father from Genkai's grasp and how he wasn't a menace to society anymore unless he wanted to.

Nothing happened on the way there.

Nothing other than them being acutely aware that they were being followed.

There was no outright threat coming off from the presences, but they were there, three of them, from the moment they stepped out of his home, to the moment they got to hers.

She was reluctant to leave him alone, but he pressed her to go inside.

Makoto knew that she could handle whatever was thrown at him, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

"Tomorrow morning?" She asked quickly.

He nodded, eyes like slits looking over his shoulder in a futile attempt to see the stalkers. Whoever they were, they could conceal themselves well. "Be careful."

"You too."

And when he disappeared around the corner, the feeling of being watched did, too.

She didn't enter her home until enough time for him to get to his had passed and she sensed no energy disturbance that would point to a fight.

A restless feeling took hold of her, and she wasn't able to fall sleep until late that night. Something was about to happen, breaking this awkward standstill where she had been since Sensui's defeat.

As soon as the sun came out, she got out of bed and did her morning routine to be out the door in her running gear as fast as possible. She couldn't feel the presences anymore.

In no time she reached Kurama's home, and she found him already waiting for her outside his home, leaning on the garden's wall with his arms crossed and lost in thought.

He was there, so nothing too bad could have happened, but she didn't like the look on his face. It was gone as soon as she approached him, and he greeted her with a lively mask.

"Race you to the fountain," he said chipperly before she could ask anything, and he was sprinting before she'd had a chance to reply.

"Again?!" She yelled at him, scrambling to keep up.

There was no winning with him.

Scarce minutes later, while she was catching her breath against the fountain in the park, wiping the sweat on her face, he said, "I received a message last night."

At last he was willing to talk. Makoto only wished she had been in a less pathetic state to hold a conversation. "From whom?"

"A former associate. From the demon world."

"An old friend?" She tried, though his word choice suggested otherwise.

He let out a barely contained sigh and shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms again and looking away from her. Makoto hadn't seen him act this… awkwardly, if that was even possible for him, since they had met in the hospital.

"I made a mistake many years ago," he said after a long pause. He still wasn't looking at her. "Back when I led a band of thieves, I ordered a colleague's assassination. He survived. In fact, he did not only survive; he became powerful beyond comparison. And it seems that he is looking for me now."

Makoto tensed at that last part. "He wants revenge?"

Kurama shook his head. "My help, actually, though I can't say I trust his words."

Makoto mulled over everything he had said. "I assume the mistake was letting him live, not ordering the hit."

He looked at her with an expression that was the perfect mix of surprise, confusion and worry. "Sometimes I really don't know how to reply to the things you say."

Makoto frowned a little, thinking that she hadn't said anything so terrible. "This person has minions for him that he can send to track you down, I assume?"

"They… aren't exactly minions. They are subjects."

Her frown deepened. "Who are we talking about exactly?"

"You may have heard of him. Well, no, I am sure you've heard of him, at some point in—"

" _Kurama_."

"Yomi," he quickly said.

Makoto instantly began to search the recesses of her memory for that name. It was familiar, indeed, she had heard it mentioned several times in passing in conversations she wasn't partaking in, but she didn't… What were they about? Some sort of fairytales about…

… _Wait_.

Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him, though the rest of her face was stony as ever. "That is the name of a legendary king."

"Correct."

"I mean 'legendary' as in 'does not exist.'"

Kurama's chagrin was evident. "I can assure you he very much does."

She covered her mouth as she reflected silently, disbelief written all over her face, until she couldn't keep her thoughts any longer. "You—I can't— _How do you get in these messes_?"

"The… perks of having an interesting life, I suppose."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "So what do you intend to do?"

"I'm not completely sure. I don't have the luxury of not answering his call, but I should arrange it in a way that doesn't look suspicious to my family."

There was the Kurama they all knew and loved, Makoto thought with displeasure, worrying about his mother instead of his own wellbeing.

She'd rather move the topic away from that. "How are you even going to cross to the other side? Sensui went through so much to open the tunnel…"

"They have ways," he said with a small shrug. Saying he didn't look happy would have been a huge understatement. "And… it wouldn't surprise me if the Spirit World opened the way for us, in all honesty. We must have become a huge bother for them, now that Yuusuke isn't a Spirit Detective."

Makoto frowned. "'Us'? 'We'?"

"Hiei received an invitation, too, but from king Mukuro. The Demon World is about to undergo important changes, or so its big players seem to think…"

"That's two out of…" Makoto tried to recall the stories, though she hadn't heard much other than there had been a group of warring kings in the Demon World from centuries. She was not into the politics of her world, much less another's. "…three?"

"That's right. The third one is Raizen," he explained, and while he shot out information he seemed more calm than when the conversation had revolved around him. "They've been in a strategic deadlock for centuries. I don't know why two of them are making a move at the same time, but it doesn't bode well for the stability of the Demon World."

"And how are you going to come back?"

He looked at her with obvious guilt and avoided her eyes again.

"If you say the Spirit World wants you and Hiei to cross over, they won't open the tunnel for you again. And what if Yomi doesn't want to let you come back?" She pressed.

He didn't reply, which was a revealing answer by itself. Makoto, too, took her time before speaking again.

Left behind, again. Farther and farther each time, as if every time things seemed to settle down fate insisted in widening the distance between them. If a Wheel of Fortune existed, she wished she could find it and break it into tiny bits.

It was not Kurama's fault by any means. She knew that. And yet, she couldn't help but be annoyed at him.

"Well… thank you for the advance notice this time around," she said, sounding bitter without meaning to.

"Makoto—"

"Race you back home," she said, and started running without looking back.

Two could play that game, and she wasn't in a mood to talk anymore.

Surprisingly, she won, and that annoyed her more.

—

The spirits of the temple were restless, and even as nobody spoke, it showed in the tension in the air, in their invisible movements, in the tendrils of energy that reached out to the tunnel that the Spirit World's SDF was opening for Hiei and Yuusuke, who had been summoned by Raizen himself.

One month, and it would be Kurama's turn. One month, and she'd be forced to face how small and useless she was again. One month, and maybe she wouldn't be able to see him again.

Maybe this was the last day she saw Yuusuke and Hiei, too.

Makoto had taken the former apart from the group a moment, while he was checking his bag to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

"Why are you leaving?" She asked.

She wasn't judging him. She just needed to know.

Yuusuke blinked at her and thought his the reply the hardest Makoto had seen him think about anything. "Hell if I know. It just feels like the right thing to do."

Makoto let out a small huff, her lips curving the slightest bit at the corner. "I should have known."

"I know it sounds dumb, but it isn't that simple, I mean—" He scratched his cheek, and sounded sheepish when he asked. "You ever feel like you don't belong anywhere?"

The ghost of her smile faltered. "All the time."

"Maybe I should've talked to you, of all people," he said to himself. "Oh well, what's done is done. The thing is, I haven't been able to stop thinking about the Demon World since I was there. And that bastard who says he's my father got in the middle of my fight with Sensui. I can't let that go. It just… it wouldn't feel right to go on with my life as if nothing had happened when there's so much to do there."

His words struck close home. "I know how you feel, Yuusuke."

"You do?"

"It calls to you, does it not? The Demon World."

"…Yeah. I know my mom and Keiko and all you guys are here, but…"

Sadly, quietly, smiling at peace, she told him, "I hope you find the answers you seek, no matter what they are." Yuusuke's expression softened, and she took that as a good sign. "But you better not forget about your origins and come say hi sometime, newbie."

Yusuke hesitated for a split second and then a grin took up all his face. "I'm not going forever, dumbass. I'll make sure you all get sick of my face when I'm back."

"You better." She said haughtily. "I will not keep you any longer. Thanks for the answer."

"Anytime, _senpai_ ," he said playfully, putting the stress in the last word.

Yuusuke's words left her at peace in a selfish way, in the sense that she could apply them to herself, too. He had made his choice with as much confidence in what he wanted as Makoto had, which was none. But he had made one. And the time where she'd need to make hers was inching closer every day.

If fate really was a river washing them all in different directions, Makoto decided after that conversation that she was going to take a page from Yuusuke's book and tell it to go screw with someone else's life.

She walked to the temple's veranda and rested her arms against the railing. Master Genkai was watching the Spirit World's soldiers open the tunnel a few steps away from her, and Kurama and Hiei were doing the same below them, waiting at ground level. Koenma was near the SDF soldiers, watching them work as well.

Sensui and Sakyou had died for this, and Makoto thought it was disgusting to watch the ease with which these soldiers could open and close the distortion. She recalled the conversation she'd had with the others at the entrance of the Irima cave, their suspicions becoming more likely as time went by. Was the Spirit World after something they didn't know?

Yukina didn't seem worried by the situation and was just hurrying up and down being the perfect host while Genkai told her to drop it. Kuwabara, on the other hand, wasn't taking his friends' decision to leave so well.

Nobody said anything as he berated Yuusuke, like they all understood his need to get the emotions off his chest. He had a right to be angry, so they weren't going to deny it to him. Even when he accused Kurama and Hiei of only caring about fighting and getting stronger, that they weren't any better than Toguro or Sensui, Hiei just told him that it was about time he realized. No annoyance, no scathing retorts.

Those two, Makoto thought, respected each other far more than they would ever admit. It was undeniable that if Kuwabara was angry with Hiei, it was because he had expected better from him, and someone with morals as firm as Kuwabara wouldn't expect good things from a person he disliked. And if Hiei was being as good-natured as he could be in the given situation, it was because he didn't want to cause Kuwabara undue grief.

Whether either of them knew this on a conscious level, Makoto couldn't tell, but it was right there for the world to see.

Yuusuke was the first to cross to the other side, waving a hand in a silent farewell as he disappeared into the tunnel. Hiei was held up a little longer by Yukina, but he was gone soon as well, without any fuss or looking back.

Makoto admired that part of him, always marching ahead with a clear objective.

The tunnel was closed in a matter of minutes after them, and the SDF and Koenma left, the only visitors remaining in the temple being Kuwabara, Kurama, and Makoto herself.

Visitors who, of course, had lost the last train and had to stay the night, so they were in no hurry to vacate Genkai's courtyard.

Kuwabara's attitude was a mix between dejected and determined now that he had calmed down, and he stood awkwardly kicking at the dirt, likely embarrassed to face Kurama after his outburst. Not that Kurama would hold it against him, but he had enough things on his mind that he wasn't paying attention to Kuwabara's self-conscious behavior.

It wasn't often that the opportunity of making things less uncomfortable fell on Makoto, but this was one of them, and she had a good subject to distract them with.

"They opened the portal so easily," Makoto said.

Kuwabara took the opener like a drowning man gasping for air. "Yeah. To think this is what we stopped from happening twice…"

"And absolutely nothing has happened," Makoto said.

Kuwabara fell silent.

Kurama looked at her sideways from his lower spot, interest piqued. "What are you getting at?"

"The Spirit World was oh-so-scared about the portal to the Demon World opening, but we just opened one here, even lifted the barrier for a moment to let an S-class demon go through, and nothing has happened."

Kuwabara opened his mouth a few times and swallowed as many replies before he settled for one. "The guys on the other side must have sensed there were a bunch of strong people near the portal and didn't want to risk it."

"So then why was Sensui's portal a problem? They could have stationed the SDF at the entrance."

Realization flashed in Kurama's eyes. "It wasn't," he said, covering his mouth as he fell in thought once again. " _Of course_. That makes sense."

"Well, sorry for not catching up so quickly," Kuwabara grumbled, "because from my point of view it doesn't make any freaking sense."

"Let us look at the situation step by step," Makoto started, walking to the stairs and sitting on a step to be closer to them. "Disclaimer: we were talking about this outside the cave while you were fighting Sensui, so credit also goes to Master Genkai and Kaitou. One," She raised a finger, "Koenma contacts us saying that stopping the tunnel's creation is of utmost importance. Two, they send you guys to take down a man that was much stronger than any of you at that point."

"Three," Kurama followed along, "they had soldiers who, as far as they knew, would have been able to subdue Sensui, but whatever the reason, they didn't send them."

"But Koenma came to help us!" Kuwabara interrupted them, indignant that they were doubting Koenma. "You can't deny he was taking it seriously."

"Nobody can," Kurama agreed, "but Koenma came to help out of his own accord. So, four: who was withholding the special troops until the last moment?"

"Five," Makoto continued, "King Enma did not send out the troops until the tunnel was already open, so it stands to reason that preventing the formation of the tunnel was not really a priority. What were the SDF's orders?"

"Koenma said that they were sent to kill Yuusuke and close the portal," Kuwabara answered.

"But they weren't sent immediately after the tunnel was complete," Kurama recalled. "Only when they noticed Yuusuke was about to be reborn."

"Six," Makoto said, putting up a second hand, "the SDF wouldn't have been mobilized at that time had it not been for Yuusuke's atavism."

"Hold on!" Kuwabara yelled, putting his hands in front of him. "What you are saying is nuts. That would mean the Spirit World was waiting for the tunnel to open."

"And that they only sent us for show," Kurama added. "And in sending us to investigate, they put in Sensui's hands the only means to tear down the barrier," he nudged his head towards Kuwabara. "Perhaps that wasn't intentional, and there's no question that they wanted to close the tunnel once it was open, but the way they acted suggests either extreme incompetence or intentionality, and one doesn't rule the Spirit World for millennia through incompetence."

"And that is like seven through ten," Makoto said, placing her hands on her lap.

"But why would they do that?" Kuwabara asked, crossing his arms. "I'm not saying you guys aren't right, but that just makes more work for them."

"Let me answer that for you," Genkai said, startling all of them because they had forgotten she was there. "I can't say I know what goes through Enma's mind, but the Spirit World is very eager to have good press."

"They do hail themselves as protectors of humanity," Kurama said, "and justify their control of the Human World and part of the Demon World like that. And what better press than saying they closed a tunnel to the Demon World, thus saving humanity?"

"That sounds reasonable and all, but there's a flaw in the plan." Kuwabara was playing devil's advocate extremely well, Makoto thought, and it was helping them close the gaps in their logic. He reminded her of Fumi; he was _really_ smart when he put his mind to it. "What would have they done if someone out of their league like Yuusuke had crossed over?"

Kurama didn't have to think much before replying. "How interested are you in seeing San Marino?"

The question came out of the left field even for Makoto, who turned her head towards Kurama with interest.

"Uh, why?"

"Just answer."

"I guess I'd be okay with going, but it isn't something I'd go out of my way to do."

"Well then," Kurama replied. "You just answered your earlier question."

He paused while the statement sank in. "Ah."

"You saw what happened when Sensui unleashed his power in this world," Kurama continued. "The Human World is not a place where S-class demons can live comfortably. It's small, constraining, people are weak and there isn't much to see compared to their homeland. They have no interest in us."

"Nice way to take us down a peg or two," Kuwabara grumbled between his teeth, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Kurama smiled. "It's how most Demon World inhabitants see the issue. Personally, I don't share their view anymore, but you can't blame them."

Kuwabara scratched the back of his head, glancing at the spot where Yuusuke and Hiei had disappeared, then at the sky. It was starry, as all nights were at the temple, unlike their city.

Makoto followed Kuwabara's gaze, and wondered if it was the same in the Demon World, wherever Yuusuke and Hiei were now.

—

Days flew by until the end of July, and with the summer holidays upon them, Shiori Minamino and Kazuya Hatanaka took a month-long trip at the behest of Kurama. He, in turn, took this opportunity to leave for the Demon World.

A few members of the SDF were once again at Genkai's temple, though it wasn't as late as the last time, and the only person who had gone to see Kurama off was Makoto. After all, he had reassured everybody that he'd only be gone a during the summer vacation. And understandably, he hadn't told anybody else that he had tried to kill the man who was summoning him and there may have been holding a grudge. She guessed she should be happy that he had told her, after what he had pulled the last time, but she wasn't in very high spirits when the time of his departure came.

"I know I have told you this before, but please do not die," she said rather unemotionally, staring at the tunnel instead of him. The urge to cross it just to see the other side grew the longer she was in its vicinity.

"I will do my best," he replied, also looking ahead. "Don't think I've forgotten about the promise we made."

"Good. I really do not one to be the one to tell your mother that you are not going to her wedding because you went missing working for a demon warlord."

With a small chuckle that didn't sound all that happy, he said, "I sincerely hope it won't come to that."

"So do I." She then remembered something she had to tell him, though it wasn't relevant, and if she was being honest with herself, the desire to do so had likely sprung from an attempt to delay the inevitable. "Some guys I know asked me to say something to you."

"Oh?" He cocked his head slightly to one side, strands of hair shifting and looking wine red in the dimming light of the courtyard.

For a brief moment, Makoto thought she understood what her classmates saw when they looked at him.

"Thank you for killing Makihara," she said, watching his mouth open a bit in surprise. "The half demons around Sarayashiki owe you one. Not just me."

He paused at that. "You don't owe me anything."

"That is for me to decide," she rebuked quietly.

He stared at Makoto for what felt like an eternity, a moment frozen in time, and when it shattered, he took out something from his hair. It was similar to a peanut pot, but black and smaller, and he broke it in two halves and gave one to Makoto.

"The seeds from this pod can only grow at the same time," he explained before she could ask. "The plants that sprout feed off the energy of the person who plants them, so as long as they are around, they won't wither, but if one does, the other will as well. Plant it when you get home. I'll do the same on my end."

She though she understood what he meant to say. "So if anything happens to you, I'll know?"

"You'll be the first."

It was not a gift to be taken lightly. Kurama, who always tried to shield everybody from his problems as much as he could. Who would rather keep the people near him in the dark than have them worry for his sake. Who always kept a healthy distance from others and was private to a fault about his personal troubles.

Makoto didn't know what she had done to be worthy of this privilege, but that wasn't going to prevent her from cherishing it.

"I just need to plant it?" She asked, examining the black-brown seed inside her part of the pod.

"Yes. Water and sunlight are optional."

She hummed and put it inside a pocket of her bag. "I will admit, it is almost scarier to have this than no information at all."

There was a lull in the conversation.

"You don't have to plant it if you don't want to," Kurama began. "I thought it would be convenient, but—"

"I will," she said. "I know you will be fine, anyway."

He peered at her with curiosity. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am," she replied, although she knew he had asked it in another sense. "You always are." He was almost as bad at dying as Yuusuke. Perhaps equally so.

Kurama got what she meant, and he smiled with amusement at that. "See you in a month."

She smiled back. "Take care."

Makoto watched him walk into the distortion and disappear, her smile vanished, and the SDF immediately set to work on closing the spatial breach until, like the last time, there was nothing to show that a person had just crossed worlds in that exact same place.

Suddenly, she felt so lonely. She wished Fumiko could be there with her.

But she couldn't. Seeing Kurama off wasn't the only reason Makoto had gone to Genkai's temple.

For weeks, she had wondered how much better she could've been at this point had she not put it off for so many years, what would have Nana thought, if it even was the right thing to do. But it wasn't a matter of what she should do, rather, what she _wanted_ to do. She understood that now. And though it had taken her time and many headaches, she knew with unprecedented clarity what she wanted.

She found Genkai in one of the tatami rooms that didn't overlook the courtyard, and it was dark in there, only lit by a small paper lamp that dyed the room in yellow hues.

Genkai silently looked at Makoto from her spot. Makoto sat on the tatami in front of her and gave her a look full of resolve.

"Master Genkai, please," she bowed low enough for her head touched the tatami, the way she bowed before Genkai and only her, but she sat upright again and held her gaze as she kept talking, "help me get stronger."

The older woman looked at her up and down, and while Makoto was on the tall side for a girl her age and still growing upwards, Genkai seemed to tower over her, bigger than life, and Makoto recalled the first time she was there, barely six years old, when Nana introduced them for the first time and requested the master's help to teach Makoto how to control her power.

More than ten years had passed since that day, and Makoto felt still as small as she had then, and Genkai had never lost the ability to make her stare in awe with her sole presence.

One day, Makoto wished to be half the woman that she was.

Seconds went by like decades until Genkai, at last, cracked a knowing half-smile that spoke a million things by itself and said, "It took you long enough."


	19. Chapter 19

**The A/N is at the end this time.**

 **Aliathe:** Thanks! I'm not going to show exactly that, but I hope it doesn't disappoint!

 **Kalmaegi:** Moms can be cool too and we need more of them around! So few of them in fiction. And Shiori would approve, but I'm not too sure about the proposal part!

 **Guest:** Yep, he cares! About the training, you'll see, more or less…

* * *

 **Chapter 19**

Makoto thought she knew what she had done when she had requested Genkai's help.

Makoto, who was sixteen, had fallen right into one of youth's pitfalls, and that was believing that she knew more than she actually did.

But everybody had to grow up, eventually, and at the moment, Makoto was going through a figurative growth spurt at breakneck speed.

She didn't even wish for death. Shedding her mortal coil wouldn't set her free from Master Genkai's grip, oh no, she was sure she'd kick her ass back to the Human World if her ghost ever tried to ask Koenma for asylum.

And she had brought it completely on herself, so she didn't regret a thing.

Makoto had also learned that day that one needn't worry about the summer heat after spending four hours balancing on a slippery rock under a waterfall, trying to empty her mind of all thoughts. Her life had somehow turned into an anime training montage since she had arrived there..

Genkai's training, while physically grueling, wasn't just about making Makoto stronger in the literal sense. She had been stretching the limits of her concentration in an effort to control when to get her visions, or at least shut them down for good when she didn't have any need of them if she wasn't going to prompt them.

After a week, she had noticed that this was much easier to do with her visions of the past. Premonitions still existed in a hazy ether and hit her whether she expected them or not, but the other power was rather simpler to deal with. Touch something or someone, get feedback. Don't touch, get nothing.

So she focused her efforts on that. Three weeks later, she was able to pick up a random object with a certain emotional charge and receive images, sounds, feelings at will. She had no choice on what she'd pick up or how far back she'd be thrown, but it was a big step forward for her.

And a fast one. Makoto was surprised at how quickly she seemed to be improving now, given how much she had struggled with the basics when she was a child.

"Of course you are better now," Genkai had replied, in a tone that reminded Makoto of how the old master talked to Yuusuke, when she had brought it up. "You have been doing a conscious effort to keep a lid on your power every day, all day long, for a decade. What did you expect?"

And suddenly it made so much sense that Kurama had never noticed her in the classroom before the hospital incident. Maybe he wasn't that unobservant and self-centered. Maybe _she_ , actually, had become quite good at this energy concealment business.

As soon as she was back at the temple after the waterfall ordeal, she flopped onto her futon and wrapped the bedcover around her in a futile attempt to regain a normal body temperature, becoming a Mako roll with no sauce and much salt.

Deep inside, she had the feeling that Genkai was going easy on her.

Makoto rolled onto her side to take a look at the plant in a corner of the room. With Yukina's help, they had found a small flower pot in a storage room. Makoto had gathered some soil from the forest, and while bit concerned that the high energy concentrations around would affect the seed, she had planted it. Nothing happened for the first two days, but on the morning of the third a sprout had appeared, and by the time she was back from her daily torture it was fully grown, twisting stalk and stems shooting up to the size of a bonsai tree. The leaves were hardy and a brownish-black with serrated edges, and Makoto had resisted the temptation of touching them in case they lived up to the others she'd seen Kurama use. Not that she thought he'd give her something dangerous without a warning, but one could never be too cautious.

Yukina calling from the hallway brought her out of her ruminations. She told her to come in while remaining in her futon, hair scattered over her pillow like black tendrils.

"I brought you tea," Yukina said, and Makoto thought she could see angel wings on her back, partially obscured behind the steam rising from the teacup.

"Thank you!" Makoto said, sitting up quickly and getting more tangled in the bedcover the more she tried to get out.

Yukina ran to her rescue before she somehow managed to get injured with her bedclothes.

"Thanks," Makoto said when she was out of the strangling cocoon. "I do not think there is any coordination left in my body now."

Yukina passed her the tea with a smile warmer than the contents of the cup. "You're working very hard. Why don't you take a day off?"

"If I stop, I die," Makoto answered sincerely. She did not think she'd be able to go back to this rhythm if she actually took a break. "And Master Genkai would not let me, anyway. I only have this month and I need to squeeze the most I can out of it."

"You have gotten much better already, though!" Yukina remarked.

Makoto looked up from the cup. "Have I?"

"You haven't noticed?" Yukina asked with a tilt of her head.

"To be quite honest, I think I am too tired for that."

The ringing of her demure laugh could have melted a glacier. For an ice maiden, her personality matched better her eyes than her powers.

Eyes a burning red much like Hiei's, making Makoto wonder if there were any more similarities under the surface that she hadn't been able to discern.

Yukina's gaze fell on the potted plant while Makoto drank her tea. It may have looked ordinary, if not very healthy, to someone without spirit awareness, but the light halo of youki that surrounded it told a different tale.

"It's grown strongly," Yukina said.

"Yes," Makoto said, glancing at it sideways. There had been no change for weeks, so she guessed that was a good sign. "It is a practical thing to have."

She had told Yukina about its function while they searched for the pot, so she was aware that this was a good sign. "I wonder how the others are."

"Me too."

Silence feel over them like a smothering blanket.

"Why are you doing this?" Yukina asked, glancing at Makoto's eyes.

She pondered her answer before saying, "I think I owe it to myself. For too long, I have been hiding behind what I am as an excuse to tell me what I cannot do."

Yukina hesitated momentarily, and she said, "Forgive me for asking, but both of your parents are human…?"

"Yes. They adopted me. They used to be my uncles."

Yukina's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh, I see. Sorry, I had been wondering since I saw your mother…"

"There is nothing to apologize for," Makoto replied, and took a sip of the tea, feeling it warm her from inside as it followed its course. She would be lucky if she didn't end up sick within the week. "Sometimes it takes a little longer than usual to find your true family."

The downwards tilt of Yukina's eyebrows was all Makoto needed to realize that she had put her foot in her mouth. She had said something tremendously for a person in her situation.

"Sorry, I should have thought before saying—"

"Oh, no!" Yukina said, waving her hands in front of her to deny it. "You didn't offend! I was just wondering how it would have been. Having parents, I mean."

The smile was still there, sad, warm, resigned and reassuring.

Makoto remembered what Kurama had told her about the koorimes, about them having no fathers. But that still left one parent. "You do not have a mother?"

Yukina averted her gaze from Makoto, a shadow taking over her face, hinting at something buried deeper. "She died after I was born."

"I had no idea. Sorry."

"You don't have to be. Her best friend raised me, and I never lacked anything. But sometimes I can't help but wonder…"

"Understandable." Makoto looked at the contents of the cup as she talked. "Though I admit that I never gave much thought to what would have been of me without them. I just knew it would happen."

"You knew?"

"I saw them. Even before I could understand what I was seeing. I was lucky to have that certainty for years."

Yukina was silent for a beat, but when she asked her question, she seemed to be feeling better. "How far into the future can you see?"

"Hours. Days, months, even years. I do not know where the limit is, only that it is mostly random."

"What do you see when you look at me?"

Makoto had been expecting a question like that. Everybody asked it, sooner or later.

"A good woman weighed down by her own heart."

And though she had spoken sincerely, the answer felt like a cop-out to her.

Yukina stared at her with mild surprise, and she fell into thought for a few seconds. "May I ask what happened to your biological parents?"

"She left me with my dad and never came back." Makoto replied clinically, as if it had happened to another person. It was how it felt nowadays. "I do not know about the man she was involved with."

Yukina's lips parted slightly when she heard the last bit. What had prompted that reaction, Makoto couldn't know.

"Do you resent her?" Yukina asked.

"No." But she had to wonder if she would have had she not known what the future had in store for her.

"…I do resent them," Yukina admitted in a near whisper, the shadow having come back clearer than before, her eyes blazing, now, closer to Hiei's own.

Makoto waited expectantly until she came back from her thoughts.

"Forgive me. I'll leave you to rest," she said, kind and distant, as she bowed quickly and made for the door.

"Yukina."

She stopped, turning around on her heels.

She was bright, radiant, and the fire underneath only made her shine more vividly.

"You have a brilliant future ahead of you. Do not let the past consume you."

A small shift in Yukina's expression gave Makoto hopes that her warning had resonated with her, and slowly, very slowly, a calm, steady smile spread on her face and made her eyes wrinkle at the corners until there was no doubt that it belonged there.

She nodded in silence and left the room, gratefulness left unspoken but not unnoticed.

—

"Makoto, I have something for you to do."

She didn't expect to be summoned by Master Genkai, not at that hour and certainly not after she had been explicitly released from her daily torture with the promise of 'rest well, you'll need it tomorrow.'

She nodded at the older woman and trailed after her to the room with the giant statue, where a middle-aged man in a suit sat with a cup of tea and waited anxiously. There was something thin and long in his hands that he was fiddling with, but Makoto couldn't see what it was.

He reminded Makoto of her dad, and looked as out of place as he would have.

Genkai gestured at Makoto to sit down and did so as well. The man faced Makoto with doubt at first, but when their eyes met, he did a quick double take and looked elsewhere, pointedly avoiding her face.

"She may be able to help you with your problem," Genkai told him. "Care to explain it to her?"

"Ah, yes, of course," he replied, clearly uncomfortable. He looked in Makoto's general direction, past her, but never at her face.

Makoto realized that she had been meeting so many uncommon people lately that she had begun to forget the effect her stare had on normal people. She lowered it to the tatami while she listened and started to fidget with the hem of her t-shirt.

Master Genkai had never averted her eyes from her out of discomfort. Nor had Yukina, or Kurama, or Yuusuke, or Ms. Minamino, or any of the others.

She hadn't noticed how much it bothered her when people did until that moment.

"My wife passed away last month," the man explained. "And since then, I keep having dreams about this." He opened his hands to show Makoto a brass key, thin and long, similar to the ones of old western-style closets. "I didn't even know it existed until I started having the dreams, and I found it in a drawer while I was clearing a room. But the dreams aren't stopping. I think she…" He lowered his voice, as if he was embarrassed for even saying it out loud. "I think she's trying to tell me something."

"Do you think you can find out what it is for?" Genkai asked Makoto.

Understanding right away what she was supposed to do, Makoto let go of her clothes with one hand to extend it towards the man.

As soon as he put it in her palm, she saw—

 _Happiness and excitement, a back garden with some dirt dug up between two shrubs of blooming hydrangeas, two hand and one wedding band, putting a present inside a small lacquered wood box, I hope she likes it as much as I did, writing Hanako's name on the lid and closing it with a key, and keeping it safe in the pocket, just a week to give it to her—_

The image dissipated under a grey mist, getting denser until there was nothing left to see.

Makoto's glazed vision returned to normal, and she gave the key back to the man, asking. "Do you have a hydrangeas home?"

The man went rigid. "I-I do. Why?"

"Your wife buried a box between them for someone called Hanako. This key will open it."

"Hanako's our daughter," the man said with a thoughtful expression, and Makoto watched as realization dawned on him. "Her birthday! My wife mentioned doing a scavenger hunt for her birthday."

"It's likely that it's her present. She was eager to give it to her."

"It will be late, but better late than never, right?" He said, sadness seeping through every word. Makoto could see how his aura wavered, struggling to stay composed.

Unexpectedly, the man looked at Makoto in the face, gave her a smile, and said a sincere, "Thank you." He bowed at her, and when he turned his attention to Genkai to thank her as well, Makoto was left in silent shock.

They showed him to the door, and when he was gone, Genkai, having noticed Makoto's reaction, gave a sly look at her and asked, "How does it feel to be of some use to society?"

Makoto blinked a few times and held her hands together while she meditated the reply. "Unusual."

"It doesn't need to be."

Makoto considered the implications of those words. Seeing how she still wasn't all that sure what to do with her life, she appreciated Genkai nudging her in whatever direction she deemed appropriate.

And she was right, of course, as she was most of the time. It was only that, to Makoto, her ability to see into the future had always been a thing to keep to herself, a burden to carry on her own in the worst of cases, and when she had gained the ability to see snippets of the past, she had treated it the same way. She had not put any thought into useful applications because she had assumed that there weren't any practical ones, and that no one would want anything to do with them unless they meant to take advantage of her.

Just another aspect in which she had limited herself through her own assumptions and wish to stay in her comfort zone, she supposed.

"I will keep it in mind."

Makoto had taken a first step by training with Master Genkai, but it was high time that she did some honest thinking. Now that her family was aware of what she was, she had no more excuses to tell herself, nothing to hold her back.

Genkai nodded, satisfied, and went back inside, leaving Makoto alone with her thoughts in the twilight-dyed courtyard.

The spirits in the temple grounds seemed to whisper louder that evening.

—

August went by, and with it, summer vacation was over and Kurama returned from the Demon World.

During Makoto's last day at Genkai's, she saw the plant retreat into the soil until it became a seed again. For a brief moment she panicked, thinking something had happened, but she remembered the date and realized it must have been Kurama's own doing on the other end, reverting the plant to its original state. She dug out the seed and pocketed it once more, and checked her bag about three times that afternoon to make sure she wasn't unexpectedly growing a demonic plant in it.

And so, the next day, the afternoon before her classes resumed and after a quick phone call announcing his return, Makoto found herself sitting at the same café where she had been months before with Kurama, with a scorned girlfriend laying on his boyfriend as her current background soundtrack.

It was unusual of him to be late. She worried that she may have been stood up again for motives unknown, but almost the same instant she began contemplating this possible development, the café's bell rang and a blur of crimson red and mint green passed next to her and stopped at her table.

She had never seen Kurama wearing green, but the pale hue suited him despite the stark contrast with his hair.

"I'm sorry, my family held me up for longer than expected." She noticed with a bit of amusement that his breathing was accelerated and – dare she say it – his hair wasn't in as much perfect shape as she was used to. He had honestly been in a hurry to get to their meeting. "Did I make you wait for long?"

She touched her teacup. It was lukewarm. "No," she said, and she wasn't lying because as far as she was concerned, no wait in order to see someone she wanted to meet was too long.

Truth be told, she was happy that she was seeing him again at all. She hadn't been very sure she would.

"You seem different," he said after he ordered his drink, before Makoto had time to question him first. He looked at her with open curiosity. "What have you been doing?"

There was something in the way he moved and he spoke, something about his demeanor that was slightly different than normal. If she hadn't known better, she would have said he was… excited? She had expected him to be in a more serious mood, considering the mess he had gotten in.

But maybe she was thinking too much, and he was just happy to be back home. Whatever the reason was, it didn't seem to be negative.

"I took a month long trip to Master Genkai's temple. Or, to be accurate, I stayed there the same day you left for the Demon World. I just came back yesterday."

That seemed to catch him off guard. "How come?"

She shrugged a lightly. She could have told him that she felt like they were leaving her behind, that she couldn't justify her inaction anymore, but she didn't feel like talking about herself. "Call it a spiritual retreat if you may."

"A spiritual retreat to whip you into shape?"

"There is not any other kind if Master Genkai's involved," she sentenced. "I will keep visiting. I like it better than the city, anyway."

Her unsubtle attempt to brush off the subject only worked because Kurama appeared to be feeling gracious that day. "You have been thinking," he said.

"Considerably," she conceded, and then she remembered what she had in her bag. "Ah." She opened it and took the seed from a pocket, holding it in Kurama's direction. "Thank you. It worked well, or so I assume."

He shook his head, displaying a small smile. "Keep it. It's a present for worried friends."

She blinked, looked back at the seed on the palm of her hand, and with a tilt of her head and a nudge put it back in its place. "How many have you been handing out?"

"I don't have many friends who worry."

"That is true." Makoto held back a smirk with moderate success. "How was your month, aside from not deadly?"

The angry girl two tables away slapped on its surface, and there was a small lull in the café as customers snuck glances at the pair.

"Intense," Kurama replied to Makoto's question in a very serious tone that didn't sound serious at all.

"But you are back in one piece."

"Sorry if I did not live up to your expectations."

Makoto gave him a dry, disbelieving stare. "What did you want me to think after you told me that a legendary fairytale king that you tried to murder was looking for you?"

He interlaced his fingers as he rested his hands on the table. "In hindsight, it sounds worse than it was if put it like that." His eyes flicked from her, to his fingers. "But it could have been much worse. I admit that I wasn't sure of what I'd find in the Demon World, but I figured that if Yomi wanted to kill me, he wouldn't have taken the trouble to locate and summon me. I was right." He looked up again.

Makoto leaned back against her chair, paying full attention now that he was willing to talk about him. "If he didn't want revenge, then what?"

"Tactical assistance. He believes Raizen will die soon, and with it the precarious three-way equilibrium the Demon World has known for centuries."

Makoto made an effort to remember. There were a lot of new players in the field to keep track of, to her at least. "Raizen is Yuusuke's ancestor, is he not? The king who sent looking for him?"

"That's right."

"So Yuusuke is going to find himself with… what, a country to lead in the middle of a war?"

Makoto tried to imagine Yuusuke governing a country.

Makoto felt the headache creeping on her as soon as she tried.

She looked at Kurama with skepticism, and he returned a somber look. Oh dear.

She sighed. "So, putting Yuusuke aside for a moment… What about you?"

"What about, exactly?"

"How come you have been able to return? Does that mean you do not have to go back?"

He frowned, lowering his eyes. "I'm afraid that I do have to."

"…I would ask you if you are serious, but it would be a waste of breath." She looked at the contents of her teacup and toyed with the handle. "How do you mean to accomplish that?"

"Through weekend and holiday escapades, mostly." He let out a nearly imperceptible huff. Even if he wasn't taking it badly, there was no denying that he was feeling the stress of the situation. "There's no other way. I will be back during the school trip, as well."

Makoto chose the exact moment that the girlfriend two tables away tossed her coffee at her companion to say, "You _what_?!"

Taking a sharp breath and with a smile that looked steady to the untrained eye, but not someone who knew him, Kurama said, "Yes, I thought you wouldn't take very kindly to the idea."

He really looked like he didn't want to be there, having that conversation. Makoto would have appreciated the lack of his rock solid barrier of politeness and composure if she wasn't busy sinking in abject betrayal.

The hand she had next to her cup curled into a fist. "Then why? Why are you leaving me alone at a time like this?"

She was aware that some people had turned to look at them, torn between the spectacle at the other table and her sudden indignation. She was also aware that this looked like a lover's spat, and she did not care because she feeling indignant beyond embarrassment.

 _How. Dare. He._

He put his hands up before him as a barrier, and Makoto wondered if she looked angry enough to make him think she was about to maim him. She probably did. That was good.

"Look, I don't want to—"

"No excuses! We agreed to go together!"

Kurama's expression was a mix between taken aback and tired. "I can't justify going on a vacation if he requires me to—"

"He doesn't know when you're home, why would he care about a week off?!"

"Makoto, please pipe down," he said with an urgent whisper.

It wasn't like she had risen her voice very much, thought it did stand out compared to how she usually spoke, even more inside of a relatively quiet venue, and that, coupled with the simultaneous outburst at the other table, had granted them an audience.

She reluctantly quieted down. "I can't believe you are abandoning me like this."

"I wouldn't if I could," he said, placating and relieved. "But since my visits will be few and far in between, I've been warned that I'll be under vigilance. He'll know if I'm wasting time away. And also, I thought that it would be prudent to not put in danger more people than is strictly necessary."

Makoto stiffened when she heard about him being watched, and now that the anger was ebbing away, the embarrassment was beginning to set in. "How long do you think this situation is going to drag on?" She whispered.

"Months, at the very least. I am now part of Yomi's team of advisors, so I don't expect I'll be able to be rid of that position too soon. My apologies if this turn of events inconveniences you."

If anybody else had said that last sentence to her, she would have thought it a well-deserved barb for being inconsiderate. Knowing how Kurama was, though, she was almost sure it was sincere.

Makoto waved his concern away with a curt head shake. "Nonsense. If anything, it's he who has to apologize for turning your life around like this."

Kurama arched an elegant brow. "Makoto, I tried to kill him."

"And he does not care." Kurama kept quiet, so she pushed on. "If he has sought you out and is sharing military concerns with you, who are closely connected to people in the other kings' radar, it means that he has let it go. Not to detract from your mental prowess, Kurama, but I doubt that someone with someone with so much power and reach has need specifically of you. He is treating you like an old tool, and using you because he knows you work well."

There was a bit of impressed silence on his part before he replied, "I can't say I disagree with your assessment."

"But that begs the question of why he would trust you when logically, he should not. So what is he holding over you?"

Kurama perked up at her question, watching her analytically, a far cry from the person he was at school and at home. "There's no use in hiding things from you, it would seem."

"Is it your family?"

He nodded. Makoto's eyes narrowed and her lips became a thin line.

"I will look after them when you aren't around," she said. "It is the least I can do if it will take some of the load off your shoulders."

He looked at her, grateful and once again at ease. "Thank you. It will help a great deal."

Makoto gave a fleeting glance to the cold tea that she wasn't going to drink anymore, and her mouth curved into nearly imperceptible smile. "What is the plan?"

Kurama seemed confused. "Which plan?"

"Come on. You always have a plan."

And the confusion for amusement right away. "Actually…"

—

There was a plan.

A plan that consisted in rounding up old acquaintances.

Something in which Makoto could not participate because she was stuck going on a trip.

A school trip. A week long school trip without either Fumi or Kurama.

She hadn't signed up for this.

She had gotten hold of Fumiko as soon as she had gone back home after meeting Kurama, had told her what was going on, and since Fumiko was a good friend, she had condescendingly hugged Makoto and burst out laughing at her misfortune in a very obnoxious manner.

Makoto shut her suitcase with the fiery motivation of someone who was imagining stuffing a demon king inside it, and said bye to her parents very gruffly.

She wouldn't be back until the weekend. While some high schools chose to conduct their trip during the students' third year, Meiou was one of those that deemed that students were better kept indoors and busy with schoolwork during the year leading to college. It wasn't a prestigious school for nothing, with a highly regarded faculty and a huge array of alumni who had gone on to study to top universities in the country and overseas, and thereafter had brilliant careers in their fields of choice.

Makoto wasn't sure how she felt about that. She had never given much thought to what she wanted to do after high school, since she was used to doing what was expected of her – or rather, what she thought was expected of her – and going to university after Meiou seemed to be a given, but if she mulled it over, she didn't know if that was a path she wanted to take.

So many things to decide. Her life was getting busier by the moment. But vital decisions, such as deciding what to devote her life to, could wait until she was a third year.

Now she had a school trip to fret about. And as was customary in Meiou High, her grade was scheduled for a trip to Kyoto.

At least she would be able to take pictures in peace while everybody else was busy making sweet high school memories together, she thought.

On the train, she found the most secluded seat she could, far from where the main group was, and claimed it to herself. With some luck, some elderly woman would sit next to her and she would have a quiet trip, with no one to interrupt—

 _One._

She did not need to glance towards the corridor to know who was approaching her.

 _Two._

It could have been worse, she determined.

 _Three._

"Kodama."

"Kaitou."

The boy pushed up his glasses and peered at her. He had a book in his left hand. "Would it inconvenience you terribly if I sat next to you? Our classmates are being…" He looked over the shoulder at the group with disdain, and said venomously, "Vociferous."

"Not terribly, no."

"In that case, with your permission…"

He took the free seat next to her. A teacher looked up at them disapprovingly from ahead, but probably figured it wasn't worth the trouble to drag two asocial with the rest of their companions as long as they weren't making trouble.

Much to Makoto's relief, Kaitou spent most of the trip in silence, and she was able to read the photography magazine she had bought at the station. But when it was time for lunch and she was about to dig into her lunchbox, the inevitable questioning came.

"Where is Minamino? I had assumed he would be with you."

Makoto took a quick look above their seats to make sure no one had heard him say that name. Conversation involving Shuuichi Minamino had lots of potential to attract eavesdroppers.

"He is dealing with some circumstances," she said, as vaguely as she could.

"Oh? Is he involved in another Spirit World assignment?"

So much for subtlety.

"Not the Spirit World, but it is something along the lines. It does not pose a risk for humans, though. I would rather not disclose more without consulting him first."

"Of course." Then he added. "I appreciate your straightforwardness."

"Really." Her mind was distracted deciding whether to attack the carrots or the omelet.

Kaitou didn't take her offhanded comment that well. "I am not so cynical as to ask you a question and repay your answer with mockery."

She lifted her eyes from the lunchbox to look at him. "I did not think you were being sarcastic. I was surprised, is all."

He looked elsewhere while he readjusted his glasses. "I see."

"I thought you disliked him," Makoto blurted out. Carrots it was.

"Pardon me?"

She replied after swallowing. "I thought you disliked Minamino." She had to make a conscious effort not to say Kurama. "But you came asking about him."

"I don't dislike him on a personal level," Kaitou replied. "But while I appreciate a good verbal sparring with him, I think that what he does is unfair."

"What… he does?" She repeated.

"He poses as a high schooler and steals the top grades," he said with a tinge of disdain. "He has the advantage of experience and makes the rest of us look worse in comparison."

Makoto wasn't sure of how many details Master Genkai had shared with Kaitou and, as such, if he had used the word 'steal' knowingly or not, but it amused her nonetheless. "I do not know where you got the impression that he considers playing fair a priority."

"I did not. That is precisely my issue with him."

He was so uptight.

"Do not take it to heart. He does not do it on purpose. It is how he is."

Kaitou furrowed his brow, but said nothing in return. If Makoto had to venture a guess, she'd say he was thinking that that was one of the things that made Kurama so grating.

She was sure she'd think so, too, if she cared for better grades.

Upon arriving to Kyoto, they were brought to the hotel, a medium sized _ryokan_ -style place, and made to leave their luggage so the first part of their tour could begin.

Makoto didn't care for organized trips, and felt like she was cattle being herded around the city, but at least she was left alone while the teachers played the paper of tour guides, so she was able to snap a few pictures before it got too dark. She left her flashes home because she didn't want to risk them breaking and didn't want to lug them around everywhere, so she had to make do with what she had.

After a perfunctory walk that didn't take them too far from the hotel, the whole group went back for dinner, and the part of the trip that Makoto had been dreading from the beginning, the one she would have abhorred even if she had been in good company the rest of the day, arrived.

Sharing a room with a dozen of teenage girls she had barely ever spoken to wasn't her idea of a fun time, but she didn't have any choice. It was incredible thinking about how little she knew about people she spent that many hours with every day.

The girls had been given a wide tatami room with futons ready for all of them, and predictably, Makoto chose one in a corner. The less people she had around, the better, for everybody's comfort.

She was left to her own devices for a while as she arranged her luggage with the incessant chatter of her classmates in the background and the constant, excited assault of inane everyday scenes to her mind. It didn't bother her that much; after so many years in a classroom she had grown quite adept at not paying attention.

Unfortunately, someone wanted to make her pay attention to the outer world, away from her mind and the socks she had packed.

"Kodama!" Someone called out to her. She turned to see Chiba, all dimples and joyful stares, smiling in her direction. Her light brown hair was down from her usual ponytail and, like most of their classmates, she was wearing one of the yukatas the hotel had provided. Three more girls were near her, watching the interaction. "We want to ask you something!"

"He is helping his mother with wedding preparations," Makoto said dispassionately, and Chiba's smile decreased for a second. "But he would have wanted to come."

A truth meant to counteract a lie, not to reassure them, though it had that collateral effect.

"How did you know it was about Minamino?"

Makoto looked at her impassively for a small pause that seemed too long. "Everything is always about him."

Chiba gave a quick, surprised look at her friends and, unexpectedly, started to giggle, which prompted the others to do so as well. Makoto didn't know what was so funny about what she had said, so she went back to her luggage feeling attacked.

"We weren't laughing at you!" Another of the girls, the one with a black bob, interrupted her. Yoshida. Her rejection of Sasaki had made him leave a trail of negative energy everywhere he walked for a month, like a stench he couldn't get rid of. "It's funny because you are right."

Makoto watched apprehensively as the group of four girls inched closer to her, the two who hadn't spoken, Amano and Takeda, remaining slightly behind the others.

"Sorry if we've bothered you with our questions," Chiba said with an apologetic smile. "It's just that you are the only person we know that he talks to."

"He talks plenty." Her eyes went back to her luggage. She wanted them to go.

"Not to us. Not unless we go after him, anyway—"

"And we don't want to inconvenience him," Yoshida said, casting a furtive glance to another small group, a few futons away from them. "A lot of people want his attention."

"I may have noticed," Makoto said.

Yoshida's lips twitched. "You know, Kodama? You always look so serious, but you're actually pretty funny."

Makoto looked at them, alarmed. "I-I," she stuttered, completely thrown off. "I am?"

"Yes, it's, you know, the way you say things so dryly that no one can tell if you're serious or not—" Chiba said.

"I am always serious."

"I bet that that's why Minamino is friends with you. He barely ever laughs."

Makoto remembered the incident when he had laughed at the school gate and several people had stopped to stare. It was a widespread observation, by the looks of it.

Come to think of it, Kurama spent a lot of time socializing unwillingly, but he had a tendency to escape as soon as he could. Makoto was a naturally solitary creature and so hadn't thought there was anything strange about it, not to mention that the two of them interacted often, but to the rest of their classmates he must have come across as quite standoffish.

"I do not think that is the reason, but I agree with that last part."

"Say, Kodama…" Amano, the rising star of the tennis club, joined the conversation. "Is it true that you can see the future?"

Makoto reacted by tensing up at the question, but she sounded as composed as always when she said, "What answer do you want to hear?"

Amano faltered. "What do you mean?"

Makoto was looked away from them and at the tatami when she spoke. "Do you want me to say yes so you can confirm the rumors and spread some more, or do you want me to deny it so you can feel better about having the weird girl around?"

Makoto was surprised by her own reaction. She hadn't meant to sound so harsh.

"No, that's not…" Amano covered her mouth and lowered her eyes as well. "I didn't…"

Chiba looked uncomfortable. "To be honest, we had wondered… You made friends with Minamino so fast when his mother was… well…"

"But then she recovered," Amano continued. "And he looked so happy and relieved, and he went out of his way to talk to you… We thought that… when you were at the hospital… maybe you had predicted that his mother would be fine?"

"It sounds silly when we say it like this," Chiba hurried to add, "but he seems the type of person to really appreciate little gestures."

"We thought that he was grateful for your support," Yoshida said. "And it makes sense, right? Because none of us could be with him at the hospital, but you were there."

Makoto stared at the four girls with astonishment, and also guilt for having jumped to conclusions. "Sorry. It was rude of me to make assumptions."

"No, it's okay! I mean, it's a normal reaction. We don't…" Yoshida rubbed the back of her neck. "Well, nobody in class really knows how to talk to you. It didn't even cross our minds that we _could_ talk to you until Minamino did."

"It's all right. I do not make it easy," Makoto said.

"It isn't!" Chiba exclaimed. "It's not right to ignore people."

"Or talk about them behind their back," Amano muttered.

The group fell quiet. Makoto thought she didn't deserve this sudden gift of empathy she was being offered, and she wasn't sure what to do with it.

"I told him that his mother would die," she said.

All four girls attention snapped out of their thoughts and back to her.

"You…?"

It was easier to speak of facts than thinking about how she felt, and answering their question after they had been honest with her seemed like the right thing to do. "I saw her die, clear as day. And he asked me, so I told him." She made a pause, recalling that day. Only seven months had gone by, but it seemed so much longer. "It was the first time I failed a prediction, and so far, the only one."

"Why?" Chiba asked.

Makoto shrugged languidly. "No one is infallible."

There was a silence in their group that no one else in the room noticed, but it didn't last.

"So it's true! You can _see_ it!" Amano said, mouth open wide.

Makoto hadn't been expecting her enthusiasm. All three of the girls who had spoken began to ask her questions at once.

"Can you see anything you want?"

"No, I cannot choose—"

"Since can you do it?"

"Since I was born."

"That's so cool!"

"Do you have, like, visions, or do you just know?"

"Both; usually—"

"Can you tell us something? Anything, really?"

"Yeah, we want to see it too!"

Makoto felt like running away, but she was in a corner of the room. She had played herself.

"Your cat will have a new litter by the time you get home."

Takeda, who was in the background and hadn't said a word during the entire conversation, opened her mouth, and with a small delay, her face beamed. "Already?" She asked. "How did you know?"

"Magic," Makoto said blandly. "May I go to sleep now?"

"Oh! Oh, of course—"

"Sorry!"

"Let's talk tomorrow!"

Makoto took the escape opportunity as gracefully as she could and resolved to avoid them as much as she was able the next day, in case they wanted to make good on that promise.

—

Makoto had been pulling her best ninja moves while they were being shown from temple to temple, but she had to lower her guard while she took pictures. They had reached Fushimi Inari that afternoon, and as happy as she would have been to be left alone with her camera and the magnificent scenery, soon enough she had the girls from the night before crowding her and watching what she did from behind.

"You really like taking pictures, huh?" Yoshida asked while she took a snapshot of the charms on sale at the temple.

"I suppose," Makoto whispered, avoiding eye contact. She never knew how to react when someone inquired about her hobbies.

"Hey…" Chiba said in a low tone. "Do you think we could get Minamino a souvenir? An amulet, maybe?"

"That's a great idea!" Yoshida replied. "It won't be weird if we all give it to him, right?"

The girls advanced towards the stall to browse while Makoto was busy framing another shot. She hoped she wasn't included in that 'all.'

In the meantime, Kaitou broke off from his group of classmates and joined Makoto, who was getting really tired of having people watching her work and becoming more than a little grumpy.

Kurama would have been able to tell right away, she lamented.

"I saw the magazine you were reading in the train," Kaitou commented. "Is photography a subject of interest of yours?"

Makoto hummed as she took a picture of a table set with _daruma_ and _maneki neko_ at the precise moment that no visitor was in the shot. She tried to take another one and realized she didn't have any more film left.

She grimaced. There was a chance that the last pic hadn't come out right, being the last one. She should've been paying more attention to the number of remaining shot she had, but _some people_ had been distracting her.

"Don't take it personally, but it boggles the mind that you'd have such a mundane hobby."

She looked up from her camera. "How so?"

"The mystic air about you makes it sort of contradictory."

"I have always thought," Makoto explained without prompting, "that it would be so useful if I could record what I saw through my ability. But I cannot. I can only rely on memory and quick impressions to make sense of a vision." She finished rewinding the film. "There is something about capturing a moment permanently that speaks to me, I suppose."

Kaitou crossed his arms. "A rare insight into how your mind works."

"Do not get used to it."

Their conversation was interrupted by Chiba calling for Makoto's attention.

"Kodama!" She motioned Makoto with a hand to come closer. "Can you help us? What do you think he'd like?"

"He?" Kaitou said in a low tone.

"Take a guess," she replied, and with a small sigh, let the camera hang around her neck and approached the stall.

There were all kinds of amulets and figurines on display, but as soon as Makoto took a look at them, she knew what to say.

"We were torn between a health amulet and one for studying, but we aren't sure. What do you think?" Amano asked.

Makoto pointed at a row of transparent plastic boxes containing plush keychains inside.

They were at Fushimi-Inari, after all, so the temple had tons of merchandise of his messengers.

The girls looked at her in confusion.

"A fox plush?" Yoshida asked to make sure Makoto was hinting at that. "Are you sure?"

White, with red ears and a mischievous face, and perfect to carry anywhere.

"Definitely," Makoto stated firmly.

"Well, if anybody would know it's you!"

The girls happily followed Makoto's advice, and while she was there, she also bought a few _torii_ keychains and amulets to give as presents.

Kaitou had witnessed the entire exchange from the place where she had left him, and when she approached him again, he said, "You have an odd sense of humor."

"Thank you," she replied, and extended to him one of the amulets for better grades she had just purchased. "To show you my support in your fight to the top."

Hesitantly at first, but then very dignified, Kaitou took the keychain from her hand, and nodded in acknowledgement. "You truly do," he muttered with a restrained smile.

Makoto simply returned her attention to her camera and set to replace the film with the satisfaction of a job well done.

The dreaded trip wasn't turning out to be so horrible after all, but that didn't mean she wanted anyone back home to know. Let them think she had suffered so they didn't get the bright idea of sending her on another one. She was positive that she was using up most of her luck on this one, and in any case, that traitor Kurama was prone enough to leave her hanging to give him even more leeway. He would get no compassion from her.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

This chapter was hard to write. It took longer than usual because I was working on my other fic, but I don't mean that it took much longer to write. Rather, the YYH plot is happening somewhere else, but Makoto is doing her thing at the same time, and I want to show so many little things before the end that I'm having a difficult time organizing them.

Also, I want to say sorry to all of you who were expecting a detailed explanation of Makoto's training with Genkai, but we have already seen multiple times how Genkai is as a teacher, and I didn't think it would add much to what I actually want to show. Makoto's growth, at least the way I see it, needs to be less on the physical side and more on the mental one. She is still very young, after all, and very lost, but trying to be less so. I plan to show more of her training in the future, though!

Thanks so much for your support! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	20. Chapter 20

This chapter was scheduled to be posted a month ago, in time for this fic's first birthday. If you follow my tumblr you may have read why it didn't happen, but for those of you who don't, here's the summary: I live in Barcelona, and days before I intended to update, the terrorist attack happened. No one I personally knew was injured, though some were caught near the site and I couldn't get home that day, and I lost a lot of steam to write for a while. When I felt like I was back to writing okay, my work schedule was extended again, then I came down with a cold that I haven't fully gotten rid of yet, and finally, a dick move from politicians has tossed the region into a huge unrest.

Basically, writer's block hit like a truck and I've been chipping at it all this time. What would usually take me three days to write became a month and a half, and the result isn't what I hoped, but I think it's high time to update. For you, since I've made you wait long enough, and for me, so I can move onto writing something else for a few days before plunging back into the final chapters with renewed excitement.

Also! We hit 200 reviews last chapter! Thanks so much for your support, and for sticking around this long!

 **Guest:** That was definitely a makizushi pun. Think of her hair as nori.

* * *

 **Chapter 20**

 _One, two—_

 _Crap._

Makoto doubled over, resting her hands on her knees and trying to stay up as she regained her breath.

"That was just sad," Amemasu said, sitting under the shade of a nearby tree, and, as always, covered by a water mantle.

Coming out of the lake to surveil Makoto's training while Genkai was busy had been a nice gesture, but the running commentary was starting to get on the girl's nerves.

"I know," she breathed out, and let out a small groan as she stood up straight, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead.

"I know you know, but that won't keep me from saying it. Hurry up, you still have three reps left."

It wasn't just her face. A sheen of sweat covered Makoto's entire body, her right hand included as she concentrated, again, her energy in it.

 _One… two…_

It wasn't going to work…

 _Three._

She missed the peak of her flow of youki by a split second, and the shot that came out of her palm was diffuse, weak, and completely useless unless her aim was making bad fireworks.

Thanks to Master Genkai's training, fainting after a few shots was a thing of the past. Now she was at the stage where her own reiki flow sabotaged her when she concentrated on her youki, sending her brain mixed signals and making her lose her tempo.

She heard Amemasu hum as she readied for the next one.

"This is being quite instructive, all things said," they remarked. "I had never thought about the sorts of problems your kind have to deal with. Humans are so inconvenient."

Makoto glanced at them after the next pitiful shot, which poofed out of existence as soon as it left her hand.

So much for being better at this than she had thought. As proficient as she had become at lowering her energy output, it turned out that letting it out was an entirely different matter. The exact opposite matter, in fact, and needless to say, she was struggling to get it right.

"This is useless," she muttered with frustration.

"One more!" Amemasu chided. "Or I'll tell Genkai."

Instead of retorting, Makoto twisted her mouth and made one last effort. She had to do this right. Slowly, she took one deep breath and centered all her attention on her energy flux, sensing how her youki and reiki beat to different rhythms, on separate but intertwined wavelengths, and waited until the two of them met.

 _One…_

Still some time to go.

 _Two…_

Getting closer…

 _Three…_

There.

But when she released her energy, she flubbed it again. The sad beam of youki disappeared as soon as it reached the shore of the lake.

Amemasu sighed. "We all have bad days, I suppose."

"Do not feel the need to be tactful."

"Oh, all right. That was painfully embarrassing. Take a break and come back tomorrow; I can't keep watching this any longer."

Makoto grimaced, but did as told. Truthfully, she didn't think she could keep going without collapsing then and there after a few more tries.

She watched Amemasu disappear under the calm waters, a fish tail showing for an instant, and the ripples left behind.

There was still some day left ahead of Makoto, but she doubted she'd get much done as things were. Returning to the temple was an option, but she could use a run to clear her head, and there was somewhere else she could go.

The mountain range that was visible from the lake was also part of Genkai's lands, permanently windy and frosty, and currently housing several guests, if she could call them so. She could pay them a visit.

Makoto made her way up a mountain until she reached the top, crowned by a hidden building similar to a temple, and surrounded by amulets to contain youki that, she suspected, had grown every time she went there.

Its source was obvious when she entered the perimeter. Outside there were the usual energies that emanated from Master Genkai's grounds, but inside, something less natural, more active and much, much stronger, waited. The Spirit World would have taken notice of it soon, if precautions hadn't been taken.

She pushed the enormous doors before her and stepped inside the building, which was pitch black inside save for a candle next to Master Genkai, who observed what was going on in the dark.

"Close the door," she said as a greeting.

Kurama had rounded up a few acquaintances from the Dark Tournament and recruited them to work for Yomi. And, of course, if the situation became dire, as it was wont to do, to have some capable support on his side. Master Genkai was in charge of their training before they could be introduced to Kurama's employer, so to speak.

It had only been a few weeks, but the improvement was palpable. They would have decimated Team Urameshi if they had been at this level during the tournament.

"Already done with your training?"

Makoto said yes with a timid voice as she stared firmly at her sneakers. Genkai leveled a sly glance at her, probably knowing why she was sounding like that. Before she made any comments, someone took notice of Makoto's presence.

"Mako's here!" A childish voice announced, and right away someone ran from the depths of the dark room towards her.

Rinku's aura slapped Makoto with its effervescency as he looked up with a grin bigger than his face.

"Hey," she said very eloquently. There was so much power contained in a vessel so small.

"Hey you too! How come you are here?"

Makoto decided it was best not to look at Genkai. "Today is not my day."

He snickered and crossed his arms behind his head. "Don't give up! If you keep training you can get as strong as me someday!"

"Such big talk from such a tiny guy," Makoto rasped.

Rinku stuck his tongue out at her, and then she saw Suzuki approach the group.

He looked like the last time she had seen him at the island, but considerably less beat up and spiteful. It was a relief for everybody's retinas that he hadn't gone back to his clown shtick.

"I was wondering if you'd show up today!" Suzuki looked genuinely glad to see her. "How have you been?"

"We saw each other just a week ago."

"So much can happen in a week! Aren't we all a testament to that?" He said, gesturing pompously into the dark, right as a very drunk-sounding Chuu cursed at Shishiwakamaru.

Indeed, all of them had been at the tournament, and all of them had come somehow changed out of it. Maybe even Master Genkai, who had ascertained what her successor was capable of doing.

But Suzuki, in particular, was a man born anew, and he had a newfound fondness of Makoto that she appreciated but didn't quite know how to manage.

"Now I realize what you meant back on the island," he continued, sparing Makoto from answering. "I can hardly believe how far I've come, but now I'm sure I can do better! And your encouragement is partly to thank."

Makoto blushed slightly at the praise and refused to look at him as she brushed off his comment. "You effort is yours alone. If anything, I only told you what was likelier to happen."

"Drill those words into your brain," Genkai butted in. "She has predicted five deaths in less than a year and failed every single time, so don't take anything she says for granted."

Makoto felt the rush of blood to her cheeks get worse. "But you and Yuusuke did die!"

"And what was the point if it didn't stick?" Genkai wagged a finger dismissively at her.

"But…! But…"

Makoto didn't know how to counter that, but Genkai didn't seem to be very interested in her answer, either. "And you two, get back to work," she said to the guys. "You aren't done for the day yet."

"Yes, ma'am!" Said Rinku and Suzuki at once, and with a wink and a wave, respectively, they bid farewell to Makoto and disappeared back into the dark.

"They are much better students than Yuusuke," Genkai said when they were out of sight.

Makoto couldn't tell if the tone of her voice hinted at approval, nostalgia, or both.

"I hope he is doing all right," Makoto said, putting in words what she had been thinking all summer long.

"He's Yuusuke," Genkai replied, as if that said everything, and in a sense it did. "I thought you'd be more worried about someone else, considering the track record of that bunch."

"I am not worried," Makoto clarified, "I am hopeful."

Hopeful that Yuusuke would come back with a new resolve; that he had been able to put his priorities in the order that felt right for him; that he had found out what his place in the world was. Hopeful that this would give Makoto a hint to figure out these things for herself, too.

"Isn't that inspiring," Genkai said, ever the pragmatist. "Now if we could also hope for you to acquire more endurance."

Makoto started to fidget unconsciously. "I will do my best," she whispered, embarrassed.

"Your best isn't enough." Genkai retorted, firm, but not chastising. "Learn from these folks. Your best is just a starting point so you can aim higher."

Makoto paused to look at Master Genkai, then at the pitch-black space where the others were sparring.

She wasn't able to fight for prolonged periods of time in normal circumstances, much less if she had to concentrate on pinpointing each of her opponent's gestures with her awareness.

Master Genkai was right. Her best would never be enough. She could still become so much more.

—

"I swear we wouldn't see each other anymore if we didn't live next door," Fumiko complained. She pulled a sleeveless peach dress from a rack at the shop they were at and held it up. "What about this one?"

"I thought you would be happy to be rid of me every now and then," Makoto joked with a serious tone. "I do not like it."

Fumiko sighed and put back the dress. "You are harder to shop for than my mother. And what do you know, after so many years it's weird to go a week without listening to someone speak in monotone."

"Do you not have boring teachers?"

"The operative word was 'listening'."

"I feel blessed."

"I'm sure you do." Fumiko pulled another one, a navy blue with spaghetti straps and sequins on the skirt. "You like this color, right?"

"That skirt is tacky."

Fumiko groaned. "Make an effort and search you too!"

Makoto got up from the seat she had taken on a hassock next to a mirror. Fumiko was helping her find a dress for Shiori Minamino's wedding, and by helping, it meant that Makoto was leaving all the work to her friend while she turned down every garment Fumiko shoved in her face. She just couldn't see herself wearing anything so fancy.

After browsing for a few minutes, something yellow caught her eye. As soon as she touched the fabric, Fumiko jumped at her and took it out of the rack. It had short sleeves and a wrapped bodice with a modest neckline. The skirt was plain, knee-length, and had a bit of flare.

"Try this on."

"I do not—"

"Come the fuck on, Mako, it's your favorite color and we've been here for an hour – _go_!"

Grumpily, Makoto took the dress from Fumiko and went to the dressing room. Fumiko waited outside the curtain while she changed.

"By the way, I was meaning to ask you something," Makoto said as she undressed.

"What have I done now?" She said dramatically.

"…Why, what have you done now?"

"…Nothing."

"Suspicious." She paused. "Anyway, I wanted to ask how you calculated how many days you could skip school without having to repeat a grade."

Fumiko sounded really excited on the other side and clapped her hands. "Oh my! From honor student to bad girl in a semester!"

"I am not an honor student."

"Compared to me, sure you are," she replied. "Does that mean you'll be spending even more time out of the city?"

"Probably."

She heard Fumiko sigh. "Kids grow up so fast."

Makoto glanced at her legs in the mirror. "Literally. Soon I'll be taller than you."

"Only in your zombie bug infested dreams."

"There are things I need to do." She added after a small pause. "Or that I feel I need to do, at any rate."

"Hm. Well, whatever feels right. It's not like I'm going to go anywhere while you kung-fu punch trees in the mountains." Fumiko sounded a little dejected, and maybe because of that she changed the subject right away. "What are you going to do with your hair?"

"My hair?" Makoto looked in the mirror. As always, it was long and straight and absolutely flat and perfectly tailored to hide her face.

"Don't tell me you mean to go like that to the wedding."

She paused while struggling with the side zip of the dress. "What is wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing's wrong, but… don't you think you should do something with it for the occasion?"

"No. I like how it is."

"Mako."

"I refuse to go near a hairdresser. They always do what they want."

"You should also put on some make-up," Fumiko continued without paying any attention to her. "Why don't you go to Shizuru's? I'm sure she'll do something nice with your hair."

Makoto thought about it. "If it is her, I guess I—"

"And then you can go to school and show everybody the pictures of how stunning you looked the day Minamino's mom remarried."

"…Why did I think for a moment that your motives were pure?"

Fumiko cackled with glee. "I live for high school drama."

"You can say that again," Makoto replied, finally getting the zip up. She looked in the mirror and readjusted the dress slightly. She thought it didn't look bad on her, but instead of showing Fumiko right away, she decided to make her wait some more, because making life a little harder for each other was just a natural part of being friends. "How many boyfriends did you tear through in three years?"

"And that is why I swore off men," Fumiko said solemnly.

"I did not think you were serious when you said that, to be honest. But you have not dated anybody since… when, the zombie apocalypse?"

Fumiko cleared her throat and repeated, "I swore off _men_."

Her words took one second to sink in, another so Makoto put two and two together, and a third as she opened the curtain and looked at Fumiko from behind with an indignant expression.

" _How did you trick Shizuru into dating you?!_ "

"Woah, that dress looks great on you!"

"Fumi."

Fumiko grinned at Makoto and tossed her hair aside with a hand. "You of all people should understand my charm."

"Was it hypnosis? Bribery? Drugs? Please tell me it was not drugs."

"Of course it wasn't drugs! It was the doing of a wonderful mutual friend who introduced us."

Makoto rested her forehead on the wall. "I should have seen it coming."

"Aren't you happy for me?" Fumiko asked in a joking manner, but Makoto could detect a bit of insecurity under the question.

"I have to be. Your taste has improved immensely."

"I think you'd look great with short hair."

"Hers is worse than I expected, though."

Fumiko burst into laughter and proceeded to inspect every inch of the dress Makoto was wearing before deeming it was perfect and making her friend buy it so they could leave the shop already. Makoto did so gladly, yearning for freedom, until she was reminded that she needed new shoes to go with it.

—

Shiori Minamino married Kazuya Hatanaka on a sunny, early autumn day, and Makoto spent the hours before it happened undergoing a test of patience at the Kuwabara's. It involved a face full of make-up (which would have been all right by itself, but several tries had been made, and at some point Makoto had to remind Shizuru and Fumiko that she wasn't the bride, to which she was promptly told to shut up. They were bad influences on each other), a French manicure, and a traumatic haircut.

Shizuru had said that she'd only cut the tips and a little bit from the locks at the front to give some shape to Makoto's hair, but Shizuru was a hairdresser, so Makoto hadn't believed a word.

As it turned out, Shizuru hadn't lied, but no one could take away from her the scare of seeing the scissors hover near her face.

She also resented that her front bangs had been cut just short enough so that she couldn't hide her eyes behind them.

After insisting over and over that she didn't want to wear any fancy updos, and the girls insisting that it was a waste of long hair, Shizuru let go of her idea for a chignon and settled for something simpler. Leaving the two bangs she had cut shorter alone to frame Makoto's face on each side, she gathered the locks above her ears, pinned them on the back of Makoto's head, and adorned it with a pale yellow tulle flower, effectively letting her wear her hair down without it getting in her face.

Makoto felt terribly exposed, but it didn't look bad and it was time to go, so she didn't voice any complaints. She left the house side by side with Kuwabara, who was wearing a black suit with a blue tie, and by the way he tugged at it, anyone would think that the fabric was trying to strangle him.

"I feel so awkward," he muttered.

Makoto thought that despite how much he seemed to struggle against it, it looked good on him. She supposed it was sort of what Fumiko and Shizuru had been trying to tell her all day long.

"Same," she said, taking a strand of hair between her middle and index fingers, levelling it to her eyes with a sense of uncertainty, then letting it fall back in place. "People should go to weddings in pajamas."

That comment got a snicker out of Kuwabara. "Or band t-shirts."

"Megallica…" She said wistfully.

"Did you see the design for their last tour?"

"Please don't remind—"

"C'mon, Kazuma, Makoto!" Kuwabara's father urged them from the sidewalk, the car's engine already running. "Do you want to get there in time or not?"

And as odd as they felt in those clothes, the answer was clear, so they hurried up and took their ride to the church, Makoto being silently glad that she was in good company.

—

There weren't many people at the church when they arrived, and Ms. Minamino and Kurama would be the last to appear, so Kuwabara and Makoto stuck next to each other and found an empty bench to sit on while the other guests, many of which apparently knew each other, gathered in small groups.

"I can't wait until Kurama gets here." Kuwabara voiced, once again, what both were thinking, though he did it in a whisper so no one but Makoto could hear. "We're like the youngest people in this place."

Makoto almost said that Kurama was definitely older than anybody else in the vicinity, but she shared the sentiment, so she didn't feel like being nitpicky. "There's the other Shuuichi," she replied, nodding towards the groom, who was in a corner of the room talking with some people she didn't know, and who she guessed was his son.

"Right, Mr. Hatanaka's son, isn't he? Do you know him?"

"Only heard of him."

Kuwabara gritted his teeth and said, "We'll have to weather the storm alone, then."

Neither said it, but Makoto was quite sure that Kuwabara was wishing Yuusuke could be there as much as she was. There was no room for uncomfortable silences when Yuusuke was around.

She looked at Kuwabara, sitting all rigid and solemn on the bench with his arms crossed. He appeared to be even tenser than Makoto, and any onlooker might have thought that she was trying to glare at the floor until it opened up and swallowed her.

This was silly. Makoto was terrible at small talk and Kuwabara had never been too sure how to talk to her, so without Yuusuke or Kurama acting as a buffer between them, and without life or death situations that would inevitably spur some sort of conversation or another, they were doomed to silence.

A few agonic minutes passed like this, until Makoto decided to reach for the first inane topic that crossed her mind to save herself.

"How is Eikichi?" Makoto tried, unsure. "Shizuru and Fumi didn't let me near him at all."

There was a small tinge of disappointment in her voice, if one knew her enough, and she pinched her skirt with two fingers to indicate the reason why her petting rights had been rescinded.

Thankfully, Kuwabara held onto Makoto's comment like a lifeline, his face lighting up like a kid's on Christmas Eve as soon the cat was mentioned, and they passed the time until the ceremony started talking about their cats instead of thinking about how awkward everything was.

And finally, the church doors opened behind them.

Many years down the line, Makoto would have forgotten how the dress Shiori Minamino wore was, or the way they had woven their hair, or the music that had played as she made her entrance, but she would always carry with her the memory of her face as she walked to the altar with her arm entwined with her son's, the happiest bride Makoto had ever seen, and the hope that, in the unlikely event she ever married, she could do it with as much confidence as she did.

She would also remember Kurama, proud and as happy if not more so than his mother, and the wish to freeze that little moment in time and hold it forever because it was perfect and _right_ , and everything that family deserved, instead of the hardships they'd had to go through.

Makoto's chest constricted as they walked all the way to Mr. Hatanaka, and she was trying to blink back the wetness threatening to spill from her eyes when, for a second, Kurama met them, and during the instant that his smile was only hers, she forgot how to breathe.

She kept blinking as the ceremony went on, and a few minutes into it, a hand holding a handkerchief invaded her field of vision.

"Are you okay?" Kuwabara whispered.

Feeling embarrassed, she took the handkerchief without glancing his way and dried the corner of her eyes.

"Yes, thank you." And when she tried to return it, Kuwabara gestured at her to keep it.

Makoto didn't know when or how she had ended up caring so much for this family. She didn't understand how Ms. Minamino had wormed her way into her heart so easily or how Kurama had become a crucial part of her life in such a short time.

After the vows were exchanged and the ceremony was over, the newlyweds left the church among the congratulations of their families and friends, and while everybody was busy with them, Makoto spied Kurama getting away from the group to go up to her and Kuwabara, happy, but also looking more relieved than someone in the company of his family should probably be.

"Thank you for coming," he said with his best smile, the one he didn't use all that much in public. "I'm sorry I couldn't greet you earlier, but since I had to walk mom—"

"Don't you dare apologize!" Kuwabara said, patting him on the shoulder. Makoto had the impression that, had the receiver been Yuusuke, it would have been a punch. "Congrats, Kurama! Now you're an older brother! Think you're up to the task?"

"I hope so," he answered with a short laugh. "For their sake, if nothing else."

How very much like him to make his concern about them.

"Congratulations," Makoto said. "My parents also send their best wishes to your family."

Makoto wasn't very sure what one was supposed to say in these kinds of occasions and showing the depths of her feelings wasn't something she was good at, either, but they seemed to get through to Kurama, anyway. And that was an ongoing theme with him, wasn't it? He always seemed to get her better than most. That's why they had become friends.

"Thank you, truly," he told her. "It means a lot to me that you are here."

"There's no way we could miss it," Kuwabara replied. "Right, Makoto?"

"Of course," she said at once. But a brief silence lingered afterwards, prompted by Yuusuke's absence. No one said it out loud, same as before, when it had been just she and Kuwabara, but the shadow that crossed their faces was enough to know what the rest were thinking.

Kurama glanced over his shoulder to see that his parents were slowly disentangling themselves from the guests, and gave Makoto and Kuwabara a look of urgency. "I must go help with preparations – see you later?"

"You know it," Kuwabara replied, "Are we sitting together?"

"We are. Not that there are many tables to choose from—"

"Oh, Shuuichi, how much you've grown!"

Kurama winced momentarily and his face froze in a plastic smile as he turned around. A middle aged woman with an impressive perm approached their group.

Apparently, Makoto wasn't the only one that found extended family reunions stressful.

"Sorry," he said quickly. Kurama, always ready to take one for the team, scurried away to intercept the woman before she could intercept all three of them, but by the looks they were getting while she spoke to Kurama, it was obvious that he wasn't going to be spared any inquiries about them.

—

The reception happened in a quaint restaurant with a porch and a garden. While Makoto and Kuwabara waited to go inside and be seated, a few of the other guests had approached them to ask from which side of the family they came and if they were a couple. Kuwabara had turned beet red at the latter question, and Makoto had felt the need to intervene because Kuwabara was being unintentionally loud in his adamant denial of a romantic involvement. He even mentioned another girl in his defense. Makoto thought his crush on Yukina was cute and completely understandable.

When the Hatanakas arrived with their sons in tow, Makoto was first alerted of their presence by her finely-tuned Kurama radar, but it would have been made obvious anyway by the wave of youki that washed over the place and made the garden livelier, and when she looked at the early autumn flowers, they seemed to be blooming stronger and more colorful than before. Kuwabara noticed it as well, having been on the receiving end of that energy quite often back when he and Kurama trained together. Upon looking at Kurama, he put on an innocent smile and said something to his mother, who walked towards Kuwabara and Makoto promptly.

She was radiant, and not in a metaphorical sense. The dying, fraying aura that Makoto had first met nine months prior now shone with its own light, warmer than ever, and she thought she saw once again how someone like Kurama had decided to cast away his old life to stay by her side. Shirori Minamino – no, it was Hatanaka now – was like a beacon whose light made you feel like you were better just by getting touched by it.

"Thank you so much for coming," she greeted them just as Kurama had done. "I'm so happy that you're here for Shuuichi – he's been so busy helping us, I'm glad he'll be able to take a breather today."

"We are here for you as much as him," Makoto assured her.

Kuwabara was quick to agree. "That's right! It's your wedding, not his."

Shiori laughed. "I hope his wedding turns out a little less stressful for him than this one. But for today, can I ask you a favor?" She said conspiratorially. "Keep him company. He's been taking care of the guests from both sides of the family, and at this rate I'm afraid I'll be short of one son by the end of the day."

Makoto smiled a little at that. "He just wants to make the day the best he can for you."

"Oh, I'm sure of that. But the problem with my boy is that he doesn't know when to stop. So you make him, all right?"

"Count on us," Kuwabara replied with excitement.

"Good." Her tone turned stern and she glanced at the area of the garden where Kurama was talking to a pair of guests. "Go get him, kids."

"At your service," Makoto said, determined, and she shared a quick look with Kuwabara as they both set towards Kurama at the same time.

He may have been taken by each arm by his friends and forcibly removed from social engagements while the kidnappers excused themselves with pleasantries, but they were young and quiet, so Kurama's swift removal didn't rise that many eyebrows, and his protests died down when the mastermind behind the attack was revealed. Kurama looked at his mother, who in turn had been watching the action like a hawk. She nodded at Makoto and Kuwabara in acknowledgement, and walked away to guide her guests into the restaurant.

—

Kurama's mother, with a display of consideration that made Makoto's day ten times better, had placed her seat between Kurama and Kuwabara. Next to Kuwabara was Shuuichi, and between him and Kurama, a couple of cousins near the kid's age. They were the youngest table at the restaurant, close to the main one.

Makoto was shielded from most social interaction by her flanking friends, and that was perfect, because she'd noticed that the kids were avoiding looking at her face. She couldn't blame them.

"You cut your hair?" Kurama asked Makoto at some point during the desserts.

Makoto refused to take her eyes off her soufflé. "Shizuru insisted," she said reluctantly.

Kuwabara sounded amused when he said, "My sister and Makoto's friend locked her home and didn't let her go until they were done with her."

"I can attest that they've done a good job," Kurama said kindly.

"Right?"

"It is not right at all," Makoto said, catching one of the cropped front bangs with her fingers. She couldn't even fidget with her hair, now that it was pinned back. "I feel naked."

"Why?" Kuwabara stared at her with curiosity. "We just can see your eyes now."

"Precisely."

He frowned. "Why'd you want to hide your eyes?"

Makoto paused and frowned back. "Have you seen them lately?"

"Yeah?"

"Do they not unnerve you?"

For a moment it seemed like he didn't know what Makoto meant, until he seemed to remember something. "I guess they did at first, but who cares?"

"Most people do."

"Then screw most people! It's their problem, not yours."

Makoto stared at him, speechless. Kurama chuckled at her side.

"I thought you were the decent one of the group, Kuwabara," Makoto said at last.

He clucked his tongue. "This is about fairness! It's not like you can switch your eyes. You shouldn't have to hide to make others comfortable."

"I would say the benefit is mutual," Makoto replied.

Sensing that Kuwabara wasn't going to drop the subject until Makoto conceded his point, and that Makoto wasn't all that interested in talking about it, Kurama intervened.

"Regardless, I think the haircut suits you."

"I will tell Fumi to tell Shizuru that you approve."

That comment piqued Kurama's interest. "Kuwabara mentioned Fumiko earlier. Are those two friends?"

Kuwabara replied before Makoto could. "They see each other every other day. Careful, Makoto, I think my sis is trying to steal your friend away."

Makoto's hand that held the spoon stilled. "I do not think that is what is happening, exactly."

A glance at Kurama and the glint of recognition in his eye told her that he had caught her drift right away. Another at Kuwabara told her that he was none the wiser.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I…" She wondered if it was all right for her to say it, but she supposed she should leave the satisfaction of breaking the news to Shizuru, even if no one had told her it was a secret. "I do not think she is trying to steal anybody from me."

"She doesn't seem the type," Kurama concurred.

Makoto couldn't help ribbing him. "You would know."

Kuwabara still seemed to think something was off, but he let it slide as Kurama cast a narrowed glance at Makoto. "Oh, yeah. It was a joke." He scratched the back of his head. "But man, they've really hit it off."

Kurama coughed discreetly and Makoto ignored him.

"I had a feeling they would," Makoto said. "Just not how much."

Kuwabara agreed absentmindedly as he dug his spoon in his dessert, and Makoto shot Kurama a glare because he was _not_ being subtle.

A while after this exchange, the music started and the newlyweds walked to the dance floor to open the dance with a waltz.

Makoto ended up staring more at Kurama's delighted expression than the dancers, and also idly thinking how embarrassed she'd be if she were the center of attention like that.

Mrs. Hatanaka's dress trailed behind her, and the pearly beads sewn onto the fabric glinted under the soft lighting of the restaurant.

Little by little, other guests joined the dance, and Kurama's mother became obscured from view. Kuwabara and Kurama chatted next to Makoto while she observed the dancers from a safety distance, but after a while, someone had to shatter her little moment of peace and quiet, because of course she couldn't have that on a day she had to be around so many people.

Kurama was certainly emitting good vibes, though. The fact that they made her nervous was entirely due to what he said.

"Would you grant me a dance?"

And he extended a hand towards her.

Makoto knew that he was being polite. She also knew he was in a very good mood, and that his mother would think that seeing them dance together would be cute. And while in any other circumstance Makoto would have said she'd do anything for her, it was only because she hadn't thought of this situation.

She looked straight at Kurama. "Would it be terribly rude of me to say no?"

"Not terribly, no," Kurama said, unfazed. "Though it would be a tad disappointing."

Curse him and those innocent-looking eyes.

"I do not dance."

"Does it look like I often do?"

Makoto looked at him skeptically, noting that Kuwabara was smiling at the exchange and that Kurama was having fun at her expense. She saw Kurama's retreating hand, and with a short but long-suffering sigh, she thought to heck with it, taking Kurama's hand and standing up.

Anything for that woman.

And going by the faces of the guys, neither had thought she'd actually accept.

"Having second thoughts?" Makoto taunted a stunned Kurama.

He blinked, and his astonishment was exchanged for a mischievous smirk as he stood up. "Never."

Kuwabara yelled at Makoto to save a dance for him, too, when they were done.

—

Many months passed without news from Yuusuke or Hiei. Kurama kept going back and forth from the Human World, to the Demon World, to Genkai's temple while juggling all of this with his human life, and Makoto… Well, Makoto had gotten used to her new routine of missing all her Saturday lessons, courtesy of Fumiko's calculations, in favor of visiting the temple. Kuwabara accompanied her many of those times to visit Yukina, so Makoto didn't feel guilty anymore for leaving her alone all day long while she trained.

She went back to not skipping Saturday school once April rolled around and she began her third year at Meiou, but it wasn't out of any sense of responsibility towards the upcoming university entrance exams. No, she was just wondering what to do with those extra days. Meanwhile, watching her classmates get increasingly anxious as the big day approached convinced her once and for all that she didn't want anything to do with that life. She felt sick for the most part at school because she kept picking up those nervous vibes from everybody.

After the excitement of the previous year, going back to a completely normal life felt… dull. Not quite right. She spent her weeks looking forward to the weekends, the only saving grace of her weekdays being Kurama and Kaitou. She didn't know if the fact that her classmates now talked to her counted as good or bad.

She wondered if this was how Yuusuke had felt after Toguro's and Sensui's defeat. It was difficult to lead a normal life when one wasn't normal by any accounts. Makoto thought she had grown used to it, but the last year had proved her wrong.

And then, one day…

 _One, two, three._

A burst of energy, compact and unwavering, shot from the palm of Makoto's hand and flew into the sky, making ripples across the surface of the lake at Genkai's as it rose, scaring the surrounding wildlife.

Birds scattered as the shot blinked high between the clouds and disappeared from sight.

She'd done it. It had taken her a long time, but she'd done it. She was able to. She had been all along!

Makoto was jerked back to reality by the round of applause Amemasu gave her.

"Nice. Very nice." Looking appreciatively at their arms, they said, "Am I ever glad to be in this form so I can do this."

Makoto kept looking in silence at the sky, following the invisible trajectory of her shot, and scarcely believing it.

It had taken nearly ten months.

A year and a half ago, she would have never thought she could accomplish it.

She threw her arms up (and she echoed the sentiment that it was wonderful to have them, actually), and let her body drop back onto the grass, allowing out a satisfied smile.

She held up her index fingers and thumbs, framing the cloud into which her youki had disappeared, wondering if Nana had been able to see it, wherever she was.


	21. Chapter 21

Things have… very much _not_ gone back to normal, but daily life hasn't changed, so all is well! A/N is at the end.

 **Kalmaegi:** Yo, I was the one sweating bullets when I wrote that pairing. Glad to see it's been accepted! Mako's been working hard to come out of her shell in many senses. This kid makes me emotional. (Yep, it feels like we're having a difficult time worldwide. Hopefully it won't last much longer.)

 **Guest:** Thank you! I hope I don't disappoint!

* * *

 **Chapter 21**

Makoto was putting inside her bag the last things she needed for the weekend when her mother knocked on the door and came in.

"Mako, dear, there's someone outside."

"Again?"

She hurried to the window, opened the curtains and looked out. In the front yard, Doraemon was hissing at someone that was hiding and failing to do so in the bushes. As if on cue, Makoto's dad went outside, keeping a healthy distance from the bush, and he spoke to the demon.

Makoto shivered when the territory expanded and swallowed her. Her mom didn't notice anything, and didn't react until they saw a small, purple-skinned man walk out of the bush and run as Doraemon started to give chase.

"They keep sending weaklings."

Makoto was annoyed. She'd been angry and frightened for her family the first time it happened, but her dad's power had been very convenient to send off unwanted visitors when new ones had kept coming.

When she told Kurama about it, he apologized and asked her to not engage if it happened again.

Makoto did not engage, but her father did. Every time a spy from the Demon World came, he would go out and politely request that they go back home, please and thank you, and never come back.

It appeared that whoever was sending them had no shortage of subordinates, and every few weeks, Makoto's family would find someone watching from the gardenias.

Though it hadn't been necessary so far, Makoto was always ready to kick them out forcibly. The people that came to her house were dangerous to humans, but not to her.

And not to Doreamon either, by the look of things. Judging by how he chased the intruders away, Makoto needed to ask Kurama if demon cats were in the habit of breathing fire or something equally deadly.

"Don't be mean, Mako." Her mom brought her out of her thoughts. "Do you think I could bring tea to the next one?"

"Mom," Makoto said quietly, slowly, because this wasn't the first time that year they'd had that conversation, "they are spies working for a demon king."

"But we don't have anything to hide, dear, and maybe something's happening to them for going back empty-handed. Dad says they haven't sent the same one twice."

Though Makoto was thankful to have an accepting mother, she wished she knew where to draw the line. She couldn't even see them.

"Hopefully they will run out of people."

"I didn't raise you to be so inhospitable."

"Mom—"

"They are just doing their job, aren't they?"

"—they are demons."

"So are you! Sort of." And she pointed at the pictures on Makoto's desk. "And many of your friends!"

There were four frames on top of Makoto's desk. She hadn't put them there, but every now and then she arrived home to find out that her mom had added a photo to the collection.

The group one Makoto had taken at the end of the Dark Tournament, one with the girls at the beach, one that Amano had insisted on taking at Fushimi Inari with her classmates, and one with Kuwabara and Kurama at the wedding.

Makoto had never been a fan of decorating with pictures of people, but still, sometimes she stopped to stare at them when she was doing things in her room.

"Promise me you are not going to let in any spies from a foreign power while I am away."

Makoto's mom was suddenly very busy readjusting the watch on her wrist. She liked lying as much as her daughter.

With a glare and a defeated sigh, Makoto picked up her bag. "I am going to miss my train. See you tomorrow."

Makoto's mom perked up again. "Have fun! And say hi to Master Genkai and Yukina!"

With one last glance and a nod, Makoto left the room, her mom readjusting the picture frames until she was satisfied with the result.

—

It was her moment of quiet, watching the stars from Genkai's porch every Saturday night after a shower, looking at the place where Yuusuke and Hiei had crossed over to the Demon World nearly a year ago.

The wood creaked under the approaching steps of Master Genkai.

"Makoto, there's something I want you to do."

Genkai offered Makoto a business card that she took with confusion. It was difficult to make out what it said with only the help of the light coming from inside the temple and without her glasses.

"That's my lawyer's contact info," Genkai explained. "I wrote my will last week and brought it to the notary. You will be contacted when it's time to open it."

Makoto stayed frozen in place, brain in a similar state, as she looked at Master Genkai.

"Why?"

"I thought I should make a few changes to the old one," she said offhandedly, scratching the inside of her ear.

Makoto kept looking back and forth from the woman to the card. She wanted to drop it like it was burning her fingers. "No, not that. Why me? And why now?"

Genkai looked at her like those were the dumbest questions she'd ever heard, and Makoto knew that it wasn't fair, because she had taught Yuusuke for months. "Who else should I ask this to? The girl who just came from another world? The fish in the lake? The nitwit I have for a disciple?"

"Point taken," Makoto mumbled.

"As for why now," she continued. "Why not? It isn't wise to leave things for tomorrow. Might be too late if I did."

Her words, casually said, stung Makoto like knives. "Why would it?"

"You know why, Makoto," she said patiently. "I know old people like me can sense when death is near, but you of all people must have felt it too."

Makoto didn't look at her; didn't say anything. Her silence was enough of an answer.

Since Master Genkai had passed her power to Yuusuke, she had declined faster than before, the energy surrounding her still vibrant but lesser, more subtle, dimmer…

But she wasn't a dying woman yet. That was why Makoto had tried her best to keep it out of her mind. Unfortunately for her, Genkai wasn't the type to shy away from those topics.

"I must say that it gives me some peace of mind that I'm not leaving so many things undone, like last time."

"You say it as if you do not mind dying," Makoto replied automatically, because she already knew she didn't. Perhaps she wouldn't be able to understand her acceptance until she grew older.

"I don't," Genkai said. "If anything, what worries me is what you lot will do when I'm not here to keep an eye on you."

Despite herself, Makoto smiled a little. "We will try our best."

"I know that." And with a smirk, Master Genkai looked up at her and said, "Now, if you're done grieving a living woman, dinner isn't going to cook itself."

"Yes, yes…"

—

Makoto's routine was split between her school days and the moments she spent coming and going from Genkai's temple, sometimes alone, often with Kuwabara. What little information she had about the Demon World came from Kurama, but aside from the arrival of the guys Kurama had recruited for Yomi and the rise of Hiei among Mukuro's men, the stalemate seemed to be the same as it had been for centuries.

Until June of that year, when everything changed.

Makoto had just left a meeting with one of her teachers, who was pressuring her into choosing which universities she wanted to apply to, and after watching Chiba have a breakdown preparing for her entrance exams, the only thing she could think about was that she didn't want to end up like that.

She wasn't normal. Why should she do what everybody else did?

She was aware of how petty that thought was.

Lost in her own thoughts, she was pacing outside the school's main building when a window to her right opened, and she had no longer time to think, just to duck in order to avoid something crashing into her.

Someone, she realized when she was pulled down until she was hidden under the windowsill along with the fugitive.

 _The guards were coming closer but they had the treasure and the group had split as planned, so they only had to head back to the meeting point and all that would be left was to celebrate another successful job before figuring out the next one—ah, there they came—_

Makoto blinked the images away, making herself small against the wall while Kurama sat next to her. He was paying close attention to the sounds of the hallway.

"Is jumping out from windows a hobby of yours?"

"Quiet," he whispered.

They heard booming steps and their homeroom teacher calling, "Minamino! Come back here! Minamino!"

They remained in silence until the footsteps faded away, and Kurama leaned his weight against the wall, relieved. Neither moved from under the window.

"Back to your criminal ways?" Makoto asked.

"You'd think I was, the way he's coming after me every chance he has."

"What did you do?"

"What I _didn't_ do," he clarified, "is choosing a university."

"Oh." Makoto had assumed, like everybody, that he'd want to go to one. It felt like a waste that he wouldn't, honestly. "That makes two of us."

He cocked his head to the side. "You too?"

"Mm-hm. I do not get stalked by teachers, though."

Out of the corner of her eye, Makoto thought she saw the shape of the youko, but when she blinked, it was gone. Kurama's hair burned like a flame under the sunlight.

"What do you want to do?"

"I am not sure." She shrugged imperceptibly. "You?"

"It depends. I wouldn't want to make any long-term plans as long as the situation in the Demon World is so unstable."

That was news to her. "It is?"

"Raizen died last week. The balance of power has shifted significantly."

Makoto held her breath and looked at him. "What will happen now?" She would take any educated guess he could make. She doubted she could find a better person to ask.

Kurama took some time to put his thoughts in order, and when he began to speak, he was holding back a smile. "Yuusuke barged into Yomi's territory against all common sense and proposed that the dispute over the rule of the Demon World be solved in a tournament open to everybody. The strongest will rule. Mukuro agreed, so Yomi has been forced to go along with it, too. Not that I think he'll play fair."

Makoto's jaw dislodged itself somewhere through the explanation. "Just like that? And what about you? The other guys? Hiei? Where does that leave you?"

Kurama rolled his eyes and the smile took the shape of a smirk. "Let's say that last weekend was a little tense and leave it at that. Thankfully, everything worked out in our favor."

Makoto rubbed her forehead. "You're telling me you all almost died yesterday."

"That's just Sunday for us."

There was a short stretch of incredulous silence until Makoto's shoulders started to shake and she buried her head in her knees and burst out laughing.

"You are the worst. Every single one of you. Why do I even bother worrying?" She said between laughter.

She wasn't sure if she actually found the situation so funny or she was just releasing tension pent up for a year, but she couldn't stop.

Leave it to Yuusuke to solve in a week a problem that had lasted for centuries. Leave it to Kurama to be on the wrong side of a political assassination and maneuver out of it just to go back to school like nothing had happened.

She just couldn't stop.

After a while, Kurama commented, pleased, "This is the first time I've seen you laugh."

With considerable effort and wiping tears from the corner of her eyes, Makoto managed to stop long enough to say, "For future reference, it takes a major international crisis."

"I don't know if I'll be able to repeat that anytime soon," he admitted.

"So," she said, regaining a smidgen of her composure, "when is the tournament?"

"At the end of October."

"And then…?"

"Then whatever happens will hinge on the new ruler, the general willingness to accept them, and the attitude of the Spirit World."

"Does this mean you are free from obligations from now on?"

Kurama hesitated for an instant and said with a plastic smile, that one that he used like a shield when he needed things to bounce off him, "I'm participating in the tournament."

Makoto's reaction came with a bit of delay just because she wanted to add that extra pressure on him. Make him sweat for so much unnecessary recklessness. "It does not even surprise me anymore," she declared.

Kurama's expression lost the forced quality. "It think it's a fitting end for this odd phase in everybody's life."

"It may be," she conceded. "Just do me a favor and do not get killed."

"That was already part of the plan."

"If only you could follow it." She stayed silent for a while, mulling something over, until finally saying, "Is the Demon World like you remembered?"

"Not many things change in less than two decades," he replied. "Humans have to hurry to live. In the Demon World, change is slow but constant, only evident when you compare it to old times." He closed his eyes, perhaps recalling those old times. "But I think we have a lot to learn from humans. If nothing else, Yuusuke has already proved it to many people these days."

"Do you like it better than this world?"

Again, he took his time to reply. "I like the people in this world better."

He hadn't answered her question, and they both were aware of what that meant without saying it out loud. Makoto knew, too, how much importance he placed in the people he had met in the Human World.

"I would like to see it someday," Makoto said without thinking.

"I think you would like it." And smiling to himself, he added. "It is a little like you."

"What do you mean?"

"That's a secret."

"…Fine."

—

Makoto didn't often have trouble sleeping, but after talking to Kurama, an idea had taken hold in her mind and wouldn't let go. She felt restless, compelled to do something instead of merely sitting out the last part of the wait until Yuusuke came back home.

 _If_ Yuusuke came back home, she corrected herself, albeit unwillingly.

Bits of conversations came to mind, one after another, until they were all that occupied her mind.

' _Wide. Untamed. Unforgiving.'_

' _Wilderness stretched so far that you could never hope to see its end.'_

' _You ever feel like you don't belong anywhere?'_

' _It calls to you, does it not? The Demon World.'_

It called to her, too. To all of them.

Tired of wasting time, she shoved away her bedsheets with a swift move and got dressed.

Botan didn't have a residence in the Human World anymore, not since Yuusuke had been relieved from his position as a Spirit Detective, but thanks to Kurama, Makoto knew how to get where she wanted.

She lay back down on her bed, closed her eyes, and tried to keep her mind blank until she was nearly asleep and felt the odd pull separating her spirit from her body, leaving the latter behind as she crossed the wall of her room to go out.

It took her a while to find her way floating among the clouds, but she wasn't in any hurry.

The entrance to the offices of the Spirit World was the same as the last time she had been there, the lack of red spider lilies always disappointing her, and the inside was still an utter chaos of papers and panicked workers that only paid attention to her to dodge.

It was deep night in the Human World, but activity in the Spirit World was still frantic.

She knocked on Koenma's door and waited for an answer.

"Come in."

She pushed it open and walked inside. Koenma was stamping papers like there was no tomorrow and wasn't looking at her.

"Leave the documents on the floor, I don't care where, just don't knock over any."

"Koenma, I have a request."

Koenma's stamping hand halted mid-motion and when he lifted his head, the pacifier in his mouth almost fell.

"What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here. Your youki levels are already becoming uncomfortable for us."

"As I said, I want to request something from you."

She rested her hands together against her lap, and she didn't miss the pointed look Koenma threw at them, likely recalling what had transpired the only time she had touched him.

Makoto left a considerable amount of space between them, not wanting to be perceived as a threat.

"What is it?"

"I have heard about the upcoming tournament in the Demon World."

Koenma lifted an eyebrow. "I have no power to get you in as a fighter or to pull any participants out of it, if that's what you are going to ask."

"I am not," she replied, eyes unflinchingly set on Koenma. "I want to be there to watch it. Would that be possible?"

Koenma relaxed in his seat upon hearing that, and he mulled over his reply for a bit. "I suppose we already meant to send an informer to the tournament, so you could go along."

She had no desire to be stuck with a Spirit World underling for the duration of the event, but she had no choice. "That sounds good to me."

"Are you sure that this is what you want? The Spirit World has no jurisdiction where the tournament will be held, and we don't have the means to help you should anything happen."

"That is quite all right," she said. "Because if something happens, Kurama, Yuusuke and Hiei will be there."

Koenma held her gaze, searching for something she couldn't pinpoint. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

She smiled.

She was doing that more often as of late, she noted.

It _almost_ didn't feel unnatural anymore.

"Go home, it's dangerous for you in here. Hurry up," he dismissed her, waving Makoto away with his free hand and going back to his work.

"Thank you for everything you have done for us, Koenma." She bowed, prompting Koenma to look up again. "I have never been so happy to be wrong about someone."

Koenma harrumphed and quickly said, eyes glued to his papers, "Yes, yes. Now leave."

Makoto left the office listening to the sounds of the stamp forcefully hitting the papers, as if Koenma was trying to squash his embarrassment away with it.

—

In the months that followed, Makoto made plans. About what to study, where to go, what to do. But before she could put into practice any of those, there was the tournament.

The last thing she would have thought in her life, her old, boring, human life, was that she would set foot in the Demon World for the first time accompanied by the prince of the Spirit World and two of his employees, but life had a way to prove her assumptions wrong.

Makoto told her parents that she was going on a trip with Botan, but not where. She didn't want to worry them, and they had always respected her privacy, even more so now that they knew that something about her would always escape their comprehension.

She took the same route to the Demon World as her friends, leaving from Master Genkai's temple, a courtesy extended by Koenma so she didn't have to leave her physical body behind for days.

Agents of the SDF opened the portal and guided them inside.

Entering the distortion was like entering a territory, but the physical world also shifted. This wasn't a different dimension. It was the place between them. There was no ground under them, but it was still solid under their feet; only black extended as far as the eye could see, devoid of identifiable space, directions or time until they got to the enormous barrier that separated the two worlds.

"Don't worry," Koenma said to Makoto. "It won't do anything to you."

It was easy to say, but the amount of energy it emanated, hostile towards her, made Makoto reticent to get closer to it.

She reached out with a hand, hesitantly.

It went through, leaving an uncomfortable tingling in her skin and a deep sadness in her chest, like the feelings of the people who had tried to cross it and failed lived on in the yellow links of the barrier.

Sensui and Sakyou had died to open a tunnel like that, to allow people like Makoto to cross to the other side.

Not matter how twisted their motives were, it felt like a sick joke.

It occurred to her, for the first time, that there must have been friendships and families torn apart when the barrier was first erected. Had humanity's safety been worth all the pain it had caused?

She walked through the barrier, static surrounding her body and making her hair stand on end.

There was a light shining at the other end of the tunnel, where the dark material that formed the dimensions wavered like liquid trying to spill out, and Makoto followed one of the SDF soldiers as he crossed over first.

Reality was solid again, but it wasn't like anything she had ever experienced.

The air smelled like forestry with a hint of something rotten, warm but wild, and with the first breath Makoto took she felt like she had been struggling to breathe through water all her life, and this was the first time she'd been able to fill her lungs with air.

The wind wrapped around her like a blanket, comfortable, safe, and in a sense pushing her to fight against it and move. The sensation that had hung around the tunnel in Mushiyori felt lacking and half-baked in comparison. This was the real thing.

She looked up at an orange sky, the red earth under her, the twisted, dark green trees near them, and giant trees farther ahead, taller than several skyscrapers put on top of each other. The nearby city was filled with black buildings that looked far more advanced than anything she had seen in the Human World.

If Master Genkai's grounds felt charged with energy, like every little thing held power inside, the Demon World felt like a living being, like it was a person and not a scenery, each part of it a different organ. Like it was welcoming the part of her that had always felt out of place in the Human World.

Makoto was marveled by what she was seeing and sensing, aware that she was gaping and not caring the slightest bit to hide it.

On the other hand, no one was paying attention to her. Her companions were anxious, complaining about the wind, the smell, the crackling, supernatural energy that escaped some lone storm clouds in the sky.

"It's so creepy," Botan said, securing around herself the blanket she was wearing in an attempt to protect herself from the assault on her senses. She and the others from the Spirit World had decided to wear disguises to avoid identification. "It's like it's trying to push us out."

"Spirits aren't made to tread in this world," the new chief of the SDF told her. "It rejects us. And I'm afraid we won't be able to accompany you to the city without risking detection," he said, referring to him and his subordinates.

"That's all right," Koenma replied, letting a sigh out through his nose. Makoto didn't think dressing as Tuxedo Mask had been a smooth move, but maybe Sailor Moon wasn't known among demons and he wouldn't be stopped for cosplay pictures. "We knew what we were getting into."

"Did we?" Asked Jorge. For the sake of her eyes, Makoto tried not to look at his bodysuit.

Koenma glared at him and the ogre took a step back, then he said to the SDF chief. "Thank you for your help. We'll contact you when we need to head back."

"Yes, sir," he replied. He and the rest of SDF members saluted Koenma. "Have a safe trip."

And then they took off, all four of them, disappearing into the spatial distortion leaving a trail of rainbow-colored energy. Tacky.

Makoto thought that they weren't doing so well on the stealth part, but then again, the Spirit World had never been famous for its subtlety.

The city was farther away than it looked, and it took them a few hours to reach it. By then, it seemed like the oppressive atmosphere was weighing down on Makoto's companions at the same rate as it made her feel lighter, more spirited.

They were in Gandara, in Yomi's former kingdom, and according to what Makoto had been able to piece together from Kurama's reports and Koenma's summary of the trip, it was more technologically advanced than most of the world. Similar to the second stadium they'd been at for the Dark Tournament, the architecture was reminiscent of actual human buildings, but with a disturbing organic component that none of the locals seemed to bat an eye at.

In fact, they didn't bat an eye at anybody. In the time they spent since arriving in the city to finding the hotel they were staying at, Makoto noticed that there seemed to be a lot of foreigners as amazed as she was by what they saw, and the locals went about their business as usual, paying as much attention to them as salarymen would to a Western tourist in the middle of Tokyo.

The hotel where the Spirit World had booked their rooms by who knows what means, too, looked staggeringly normal, even if the receptionist had two tails and a fin, and even if Makoto wouldn't have chosen to paint everything in blacks and reds and greys, but she was sure an edgier teenager would have been perfectly at home in it.

Botan, however, was not, and was jumpy even alone with Makoto in their shared room, though it may have been due to the novelty of the situation.

Makoto sat on her bed, staring at a slightly unsettling bedside lamp, while Botan made the rounds around the room, blanket and glasses hastily discarded, checking every little corner. Just in case. She was more of a chatterbox than usual.

"Aren't you nervous?" Botan asked her.

Tentatively, Makoto approached an index finger to the lamp, which stayed still until she touched the surface covering the light bulb, or whatever it was, and it snapped backwards. Botan hissed, Makoto gave a small start, and the lamp when back to its previous state as soon as Makoto held her hand back.

"…No." Makoto replied. She touched the lamp again with her fingertip, and this time it only backed away an inch, though it still didn't seem to like being touched.

"You've got nerves of steel, girl," Botan joked.

"It is not like that. This place does not cause me any anxiety. It feels like—"

She caught herself before saying _home_.

"—like somewhere familiar."

"Oh. Oh, of course! You're half demon!" Botan started laughing. "Makes total sense! I always forget about it."

Makoto looked up at her quizzically. "You… do?"

"Don't you?"

Makoto didn't know what to reply, and Botan started babbling.

"Well, I guess it's because I see you all the time with the girls, and Yuusuke, and Kuwabara, and you're just one more of the pack, you know? Ah, but I guess Yuusuke isn't human anymore, and Yukina has never been one, so…" She laughed nervously and knocked on her head. "Never mind dear old Botan, I can be a wee bit absent-minded sometimes."

Makoto smiled at her. "I can appreciate that."

"How am I supposed to take that comment?"

"Help me find out how to turn off the lamp."

Botan's comment made Makoto realize that, against all expectations when they had first met, she forgot more and more often that Botan was a spirit.

They are people, she had told Fumi once.

Maybe it was Makoto who hadn't let the words sink in all this time.

—

The stadium was _huge_.

Makoto couldn't see the end of it when she stood in front of the entrance with her companions, and if the resellers making good cash were a good indication, it was full to the brim.

And, as it couldn't be any other way, they were still dragging along the curse from the Dark Tournament and very much late, because of course putting on costumes wasted way more time than getting ready like a normal person.

Even outside the venue, speakers boomed with Yuusuke's unmistakable voice. Ticket in hand, Makoto grabbed Botan by the sleeve and pulled her along in a hurry, leaving Koenma and Jorge to trail behind them and forgetting all pretenses of discretion. Absolutely nobody around seemed to care that they weren't demons. If anything, they tried to get out of the way before Makoto trampled over them in her search for seats.

Something she had noticed since the day before, too, was that most demons were, well. Awfully normal, for the lack of a better world. All her life, Makoto had imagined the Demon World like this place full of threatening people.

But people were people everywhere, and just like most humans had no need to spend hours upon hours in a gym to lead a fulfilling life, neither did demons.

Makoto had become so used to being surrounded by absolute beasts in combat terms that it wasn't until she had set foot in the Demon World that she realized that _they_ were the anomalies, even there.

Realizing that she was already stronger than most of the people she was dodging on her way to the stairs was beyond weird.

It also explained how so many puny criminals that turned up in the Human World thought themselves so great and powerful. Quite the adrenaline rush to find themselves stronger than everybody else by virtue of having supernatural powers when they were just a tiny bit above the general populace back home. She was pretty sure they were the kind of people that mugged neighbors out of their wallets in dark alleys.

They reached the gallery in time to see a tiny Yuusuke on a stage, being shown up close on enormous screens that filled the stadium, asking for fair play.

It seemed odd to Makoto that there was no space to hold combats in the stadium, but on second thought that had been a sound move, because if Toguro and Yuusuke had been able to decimate one in the first five minutes of their battle, it wouldn't be safe to be in the vicinity of any of these competitors.

Yuusuke bowed out after encouraging the demons to hold regular tournaments to decide the ruler of their world, and with that, the screens turned to white and the graphic of the tournament with the random pair-ups appeared.

Makoto and the rest had missed the qualifying rounds, so she hurried to locate the names of her friends, repeating them like a mantra in her head: _Kurama, Yuusuke, Hiei, Suzuki, Jin, Rinku, Chuu, Touya, Shishiwakamaru—_

So many people.

"I think everybody made it!" Botan said.

"Do you see any other interesting names?" Makoto asked.

"The two former kings are there, and I believe that Hokushin in block B is one of Raizen's former generals," Koenma said after straining to see. "No idea, other than that."

Jorge was wringing his hands nonstop. "That man is in the same block as Yuusuke. That's really bad luck."

"Ah!" Botan pointed at the screen. "Yuusuke and Hiei are in the same blocks as Yomi and Mukuro!"

"We know where their tournament ends now…" He whispered.

"Would thinking positively hurt you?" Botan snapped.

"Sorry," Jorge laughed nervously, backing away from her. "I guess I'm a little on edge…"

"Aren't we all," Koenma said with a sigh. "Who knows what'll come out of this? I hope Yuusuke knew what he was doing."

Three heads turned to Koenma, and he became aware of what he had just said.

"Nevermind."

Makoto returned looked back at the blocks, determining that she didn't care about block A because no one she knew was in there.

"Any familiar names in Kurama's group?" She asked. "I cannot find any."

The others read the graphic again, but they waited until Koenma's diagnostic. He was the only one that kept up with interworldly affairs, after all. "None."

Makoto hummed. Not knowing what the future held in store made her more nervous than knowing Hiei and Yuusuke would eventually be facing two behemoths. Then again, it was always the same with her, wasn't it? Uncertainty made her anxious. She wasn't used to uncertainty.

Admittedly, it was also pretty exciting.

And, just half an hour later, and after resigning themselves to not find anywhere to sit, the tournament began with the first pairs of each group, four screens simultaneously broadcasting the fights to the stadium.

Even at that pace, the tournament could go on for days, with how many people were participating, but there was no schedule to be seen anywhere. Maybe they intended to keep advancing the rounds as soon as they were able to, no matter the time? If the objective really was to determine who was the strongest, complaining about fighting overnight would be silly.

Most of the first matches were quick, but some went on for longer than the others and held back the following rounds. Makoto's friends passed the first round with no problem, except for Chuu, who surrendered before the fight could even start and proceeded to flirt with his opponent, and Rinku, who went easy on the girl he fought.

The saying 'like father, like son' crossed Makoto's mind.

One thing that she didn't expect, but nonetheless made a lot of sense, was that she could feel the youki of the fighters from the stadium, even though the fights were being held on top of the fossilized trees outside the city that she had seen the day prior.

Makoto also saw Yomi and Mukuro for the first time, but she guessed they didn't cause the same impact through a screen. Sure, both had a dignified air about them, but… they looked so ordinary.

She had maybe expected giants and claws and sharp teeth and evil laughter, especially from Yomi. It seemed that Spirit World propaganda had done its number on her, too. The motherland was more welcoming than she could have assumed.

It was easy to see why Yuusuke had been so torn between choosing to remain in the Human World or going after Raizen. Because it was undeniable now that that pull that Makoto had felt when Sensui opened the tunnel, that influence, was a side-effect from the Demon World, luring in all whose ancestors had come from there, encouraging them to be in a place that didn't restrain them for the crime of existing.

The second rounds began, with more of her friends running into trouble, but Hiei and Yuusuke passed onto the third one, who would pit them against Mukuro and Yomi, respectively.

Makoto was curious about Mukuro, but that was the extent of her interest. On the other hand, she was praying hard for Yusuke to pummel Yomi into the ground, as unlikely as it was.

But before any of that could happen, Kurama had some difficulties in his fight.

How unexpected.

By then, Makoto had sat on the floor next to Botan and had her eyes glued to the screen where his fight with Shigure, one of Mukuro's men, according to the announcer, was being broadcasted.

The top of the tree held a forest, but Shigure fought with a circular sword that was able to cut through any obstacles Kurama may have used to his advantage. Even then, he couldn't have been in a better location to fight. Why was he having so much trouble? Why did he always waste time allowing his opponents to attack first and get the momentum?

Makoto shifted uncomfortably, unconsciously grabbed at the seams of her jeans and squeezed. She hadn't seen anybody getting killed in the tournament thus far, but she wouldn't put anything past Kurama, for better or worse. Shigure didn't seem the kind of person with whom any mistakes could be afforded.

The change was gradual but drastic, the sort of thing you wonder how you didn't notice as it happened when you arrive at the end result. Red appeared to shine silver until it became a metallic cascade of hair, eyes narrowed and glinted gold, clothes turned white, and just like that, the human Kurama switched places with the demonic one.

But instead of using the power-up in his favor, he spent more time dodging Shigure's attacks, running, keeping his distance from him. It couldn't be that he wasn't able to get close to Shigure. Makoto had no doubt that Kurama could create an opening if he needed one.

The injuries kept piling up and he made no gesture to get closer to Shigure.

She felt her temper rise. What was he playing at?

But he stalled and stalled until he reverted to his human body. Makoto recognized this as the usual point when he was on the brink of death and somehow managed to turn around the battle in the last moment.

Her conviction was starting to waver when Shigure's sword came too close to Kurama's head and he did not dodge, but in a fraction of a second, thousands of branches sprung up from below, cracking the ground, stopping the sword mid-air, disabling Shigure and raining cherry blossoms all over the forest.

Makoto was unable to tear her eyes away from the image until Botan glomped her with a victory cry.

She didn't see what happened right away, but when she looked at the screen again, over Botan's blue mop of hair, Shigure was nowhere to be seen and Kurama didn't look like he would be able to go very far with those injuries. Surely there had to be an emergency team somewhere around?

The transmission cut off as the result of the match was displayed on screen.

"Maybe I should go see him," Makoto said.

Botan, releasing her grip on Makoto, covered her mouth as she snickered. "Of course you should!"

Makoto ignored what she was implying. "I will try to be fast."

"Don't worry. We will be here," said Koenma.

Jorge didn't think it was such a good idea. "Are you sure you want to go alone?"

It also didn't seem like he wanted to volunteer to accompany her, but he would if he had to.

"I will be fine."

And she wasn't boasting. She actually felt safer in that place than at the Dark Tournament and she had roamed the island without a problem. The atmosphere in this one was brimming with excitement, not bloodlust, and the constant thrum of the audience's thoughts in her head was so much a bother as a background beat.

People were having fun, honestly and in good spirits, and it reflected in her mood, too. As always, Genkai's training hadn't made her able to shut off the signals she picked up, but they had become easier ignore.

This time, once she was inside the building, Makoto paid attention to where she was going, but it was difficult to find her way to the infirmary that, she supposed, had to be somewhere around, when all the signs where written in undecipherable symbols.

That was a problem she had not anticipated, and that she was determined to solve as soon as she got back home and could get a hold of Kurama or Yukina.

But in the meantime, she had to make do with what she had, so she roamed the hallways of the stadium following her sixth sense, which, if she paid attention, pointed her in a particular direction. She had become more adept at detecting that feeling, and she knew better than to question it.

Her trust was rewarded not with an infirmary, but with a laughing Yuusuke punching Chuu on the arm.

"Like you can talk, Urameshi!" Chuu roared. "How's the wife back home?"

"I don't know what the—"

"He would not know," Makoto chimed in, "but she is doing great."

"Right, I haven't seen her in a—" Yuusuke went silent and did a double take when he realized who had spoken. " _Makoto_?! The hell are you doing here?!"

"Hah! Makoto, long time no see! I see you've gotten even better!"

"Same to you."

Chuu flexed his arms to show her just _how_ much better, but Yuusuke stepped in front of him.

"Did you get taller than me?!" He bellowed.

Makoto stared smugly at Yuusuke, a tiny smirk showing and threatening to grow the more indignant Yuusuke looked. "My, have you always been so small? Are those Raizen's famed genes?"

Yuusuke's startled face morphed into a malicious grin, and he launched an attack at Makoto that ended with her caught in a headlock and Yuusuke messing her hair as she tried to swat his hand away to no avail.

"I'm still stronger than you!"

"You— _ouch!_ Brute! Let go! Is this the example you want to set in front of— _don't pull!_ "

When Yuusuke saw fit to let her go, there were about ten random people and a bunch of monks staring at the two. Chuu just kept laughing.

"Did you come alone?" Yuusuke asked. "How did your find your way here?"

She glanced around, combing her hair with her fingers, and decided it was best not to talk much. "I got permission. I am here with Botan and a higher up."

"Koenma's here t— _mhphff_?!"

Makoto had never put a hand over someone's mouth so fast.

" _Yuusuke_!"

He put his arms up apologetically, and Makoto stepped back tentatively.

"Okay, okay, not saying anything about the big baby!" He zipped his mouth and rested his fists on his hips. "So what do you think about this world? It's pretty cool, right?"

"I was telling Yuusuke I need to show him a load of bars when the tournament's over. You should come too! Let's celebrate all together!"

"I'm still a minor."

"No one's going to care!"

Makoto shook her head with a half-smile. "Found your answers?" She asked Yuusuke.

It had been the last conversation they had had, a year and a half ago, and one Makoto had revisited many times in the last months.

"Yeah," he replied right away. He hadn't forgotten, either. "Did you find yours?"

Her own answer surprised her. "I think so."

"Cool!" Yuusuke grinned. "But seriously, Kurama should've told us you were coming. Did you see him yet?"

"He does not know I am here."

Yuusuke deadpanned, and in the blink of an eye the most gloriously evil overlord smile spread on his face, and he pointed towards the corridor behind him. "Go straight and turn to the left as soon as you can. Oh man, I really wanna see his face when—"

"Your match is about to begin, Lord Yuusuke," one of the monks said from the sidelines. Makoto thought he looked like a long-suffering man.

"Yeah, I know, I know," Yuusuke dismissed him, confirming her suspicions. "Hey, you haven't brought a camera by any chance, have you?"

"Not today," Makoto confirmed. "But I promise to commit the scene to memory and describe it in minute detail later."

"You better do!" He encouraged her. "Go and startle fox boy like only a few chosen can!"

"That is my gift," Makoto said, putting a hand to her chest. "Catching a millenary demon by surprise every time he enters a tournament."

"Never change."

"You go, girl," Chuu said. "And chew him out for us! We were too busy hauling his ass back to get on his case the way he deserves."

"Then I will be there until tomorrow," she said with distaste, and as she turned around she told him, as an afterthought, "By the way, nice match."

Chuu called her a traitor, Yuusuke snorted, and Makoto left them bickering once again.

True to Yuusuke's word, the infirmary was just around the corner, and she stopped in front of the door, hand suspended over the handle while wondering if she could give extra impact to her entrance just to spook Kurama, but someone who was passing behind her said, "My papa's inside."

Makoto looked at the source of the voice. It was a child with black hair, a horn in the middle of his head, pointy ears and a very sour look.

And, much like she had thought of Kurama before they were on speaking terms, waves of youki rolled off him like cheap cologne assaulting her nasal cavity. A _lot_ of cheap cologne.

He had to be at Yuusuke's level, at least. Give Makoto twenty years or so to get near it.

And he was wearing a badge, so obviously he was one of the fighters.

"Is only one person allowed in?" She asked.

"It doesn't matter. You shouldn't interrupt papa when he's talking to someone."

Makoto was, at best, indifferent towards children. Dealing with a snotty one was not high on the list of things she would be doing at present. "Why do you think I will interrupt him?"

"Aren't you here for Kurama? You smell human, like him."

The door opened swiftly, and behind Makoto a deep voice boomed, "Shura, don't be rude."

Makoto turned around slowly, acutely aware of the cold sweat instantly building on her temples, and doing her best to not let it show.

The kid's youki had distracted her so much she hadn't noticed this one before. In other circumstances, that would have been a fatal mistake.

Yomi was taller than she had assumed after seeing him on screen.

There was no threat coming from him. In fact, there was a quiet, friendly aura surrounding him, but Makoto still felt like a cornered animal under the sheer presence of his youki.

She stood her ground.

Shura replied, ruffled, "She's the rude one!"

"Shura," he warned once again, and the kid shut up. "Forgive my son," Yomi told Makoto, offering a conciliatory smile. Given all the grief he had caused Kurama, Makoto's first thought was to apply a fist to it, but she wasn't suicidal and that was Yuusuke's job. "He's hotheaded like his father was."

How dare he be polite and charming and handsome when he had been yanking Kurama's chain for over a year?

Speaking of the devil.

"Makoto? What are you doing here?"

Makoto looked inside of the room and saw Kurama sitting on a cot and already wearing a few bandages. "Boo."

He stared at her stunned, and she regretted not having the camera on her to show Yuusuke. This wasn't a sight that could be seen every day.

She had the feeling that something in Kurama's brain refused to compute that Makoto was able to hop between worlds, too, given the means. It was oddly satisfying to fall outside of his calculations every now and then.

"I feel so appreciated," she said blandly before his silence.

Yomi, however, seemed to be having all the fun Yuusuke was missing. "Is this one of your friends, Kurama?"

Calmly, or as calmly as she could, considering who was standing next to her, she crossed her arms and said to Yomi, "You sent spies to my home."

The smile dropped from his face, but his reply was still good-humored. "Did I?"

"Repeatedly."

"I take it that you didn't like it."

"You assume well."

He brought a hand to his chin. "I thought it was strange that so many kept returning willingly and unharmed. It drove Shachi up the wall."

Makoto knew, through Kurama, that Yomi was blind, and he kept his eyes permanently closed. It was unnerving, because it was as if he could see her through his eyelids, and as someone who was used to intimidate people with a stare, Makoto felt oddly defenseless.

"I do not know who that is," she said.

Yomi turned his head to Kurama, posing a silent question.

"Shachi was his previous general. I did not give her unnecessary details, Yomi," Kurama said with a serious tone.

"When have you ever?" Yomi said, and turned to Makoto. "I apologize for my subordinate's actions. I understand that he sent some of his men to the Human World to make sure that there weren't intel leaks."

Makoto didn't hide her frown as she looked away from Yomi and her arms tightened. "That was completely unnecessary."

"I am sure it was, and it won't happen again. Kurama took care of the problem a while ago."

Makoto snuck a glance at Kurama as he coughed quietly.

If only her mother could be half as expeditious, Makoto lamented.

"But tell me," Yomi continued, "how did you send the spies back without a fight? They were disoriented, and Kurama wouldn't talk."

"As I said, Yomi, I don't share unnecessary details."

And if Kurama had deemed it was for the better not to reveal what had happened, Makoto was going to follow his example.

"They were simply told they were not wanted there," Makoto said.

Yomi pondered her answer, but instead of pressing for something more concrete, he said, "Interesting. You aren't lying."

She wanted to say that she never did, but he didn't have to know, so she kept it to herself.

The lack of a reply made Yomi say to Kurama, jokingly, "I get the feeling that your friend doesn't think too well of me."

Makoto genuinely felt like it had been an inoffensive, well-meaning comment. She also felt it was completely inappropriate, given what he had done, and she didn't like being talked about as if she was absent, so she didn't hold her tongue any longer.

"You used Mrs. Minamino's life to blackmail Kurama. Forgive me if I don't think kindly of you."

"Mako—"

"Let her, Kurama. I do not mind. It's only natural that she dislikes me." He directed his attention back to Makoto. "I will only say in my defense that it was the best way I had to get Kurama's support when I needed it most. It wasn't moral, but I would do it again in those circumstances."

If this man had a saving grace, Makoto thought, is that he didn't shy away from his actions, but everything he said was wrapped in _so much condescendence_. "This is not about morals. My gripe with you is that you put _her_ life in danger. I would not care had you targeted someone else."

"So it's entirely personal, then." Yomi chuckled under his breath, and Kurama let out a small sigh. Makoto had the certainty that she was missing a part of this exchange. "Kurama, your associates never cease to amuse me."

Shura, on the other hand, didn't seem to be having such a good time. "Papa, it's almost time."

"Yes, we should be going. See you later, Kurama." And then, with that same irritating smile, he said to Makoto. "It's always good to meet one of Kurama's friends. Say goodbye, Shura."

Shura, instead, stuck his tongue out at Makoto, and Yomi forced him to bow as he did the same.

Makoto bowed stiffly, and the two left, tension in the room going with them. As soon as they were out of sight, Makoto entered the infirmary and closed the door behind her.

"Have you gone mad?" Kurama asked.

"I told you, I have always wanted to see the Demon World."

"I mean antagonizing Yomi," he said, knowing full well that she knew what he had been getting at.

"Maybe I am taking a page from Fumi's book. He deserved it."

Kurama pinched the bridge of his nose, looked at the ceiling, and then at Makoto.

"Sometimes I think I know you, and then you do these things."

She considered his words. "Is that a good assessment, coming from you?"

"I don't even know."

Makoto smiled smugly. Kurama looked like he wanted to reciprocate, but didn't have the energy to do so.

"Did you come on your own?" He asked.

"I am with Koenma, Botan and Jorge. Though they do not want to be here, clearly."

"Koenma, too? No wonder. Spirits aren't exactly popular around these parts."

"No one has minded us, so far."

"Priorities," Kurama guessed. "You know how big cities are. Have you been here for long?"

"Since yesterday afternoon. I think. I've lost track of time since I arrived."

"It happens." He paused. "It seems to flow—"

"—differently, yes." She completed the sentence. "How are you?"

Kurama brought a bandaged hand to his midsection. "It's nothing to worry about, but I think this was my last round."

"Chuu and Yuusuke wanted me to give you grief about it."

His lack of reaction made clear that he had been expecting it. "I'm ready for the lecture."

Makoto raised an eyebrow. "I do not like to repeat myself. I already told you what I thought a long time ago."

"Oh?" That answer, however, caught him off guard. "I will take your benevolence at face value, in that case."

"But I do have a question."

He closed his eyes and smiled briefly to himself before looking at her. "I thought as much."

So much for surprising him at every turn. "Why did you wait until you recovered your human form?"

"I wanted to prove something to myself. That's all," he sentenced. "A selfish whim."

"I believe most of that, but not the whim part."

His smile remained mysterious and unchanged. "That's my final answer."

"That is all right."

Kurama grew more comfortable when he saw she was letting the subject go. "So tell me, does this world live up to expectations?"

"I did not have expectations, per se," she replied, linking her fingers idly. "But it is different from what I imagined. And maybe like I hoped."

"You hoped for something?"

"It is difficult to say," she replied, thinking hard about how to continue. Because saying out loud that she felt like she didn't belong in the Human World would have been like admitting defeat, like giving up on her home, and her family, and all her human friends. Like saying that her life until then had been a shadow of what it could have been.

But Kurama knew, every demon-blooded person who had been in the two worlds knew which one naturally _felt_ like home, no matter which one actually _was_.

"I see why Yuusuke was so torn about coming back here," she said.

Because she understood better than ever that there had been a sizable possibility that he'd choose to stay. What else could he ask from life? People who respected him, skilled fighters who could give him a challenge, an unending world to roam…

…and Keiko. The one thing in his life that could never be compatible with the world that called to him.

She didn't need to say anything else, because she knew Kurama would understand.

"…Yes. His choice was a difficult one."

As were the ones left unsaid: his, Hiei's, even Makoto's. No matter what they did, they would always be giving something up.

"You told me once that you could never hope to see all of this world, no matter how long you lived."

He peered at her with clear interest. "I remember that."

"I would like to see it by myself someday. When there is not much left for me in the Human World, at any rate."

That time would come, eventually, but there were decades ahead of her. Precious time she couldn't afford to waste, for the sake of those who wouldn't live long, and for hers as well.

As with the Demon World, she had hoped, but not expected, what Kurama said next.

"We could go together, if you'd like."

"Is that an offer?" She asked to make sure.

"It is," he said, and his gaze became longing, lost in a place she couldn't see. "I have missed travelling, to be honest. I am sure I will miss it much more by the time I can do it properly."

"I will take you up on that. I would hardly find a better guide."

Kurama's eyes had a genuine, open spark that he rarely displayed, and a mischievous undertone that was so much like his mother's. "That is truer than you know."

Makoto hesitated, because she didn't want to know how many places he was already planning to trespass as long as he was the tour guide, and she never knew when her spirit antenna was going to see fit to inform her of it. "You know, when some people say you are scary, it is not for the reasons they think."

Kurama let out a hearty laugh that made him unfairly attractive.

She tried not to pay attention to it. "Are you going to watch Yuusuke's fight?"

"Yes. I should start moving if I don't want to miss the beginning." He stepped down from the cot he was sitting on and grimaced when his full weight was on his feet.

Makoto stepped closer to him. "Are you sure you can walk? Do you need help?"

He didn't look steady, and the last thing she wanted was having to help him up from the floor.

Hesitantly, he moved his right arm towards her, but stopped as soon as he began. "May I?"

Always the gentleman.

"Of course."

He put an arm around her shoulders, leaned his weight against her, and they made their way out of the infirmary.

One thing Makoto really appreciated from Kurama was that he tried his best to never overstep her boundaries. Not that he could usually do it, always being so guarded, but it was refreshing to have around someone who never assumed.

That reminded her of his comment when she had surprised him by appearing at the Dark Tournament.

She suddenly felt tempted to slip out of his grasp and watch the fall.

Makoto would freely admit that she had trouble letting go of grudges.

"This is absolutely surreal," he said in awe when they got to the nearest lounge. It was full of fighters, including some of their friends, and the screens on the wall were already displaying Yuusuke's and Yomi's match.

A cold war that had been going on for centuries, solved by a former human in a year. The entirety of the Demon World, kings included, united to put an end to the conflict. Fighters who came to the tournament for the sake of fun and competition, not blood. More friends than Makoto was able to count with both hands. A family that knew what she was and didn't reject her. A strength she had never believed she could have. Being in the Demon World with the help of the Spirit World prince, with people who liked her.

Makoto had to swallow a knot in her throat to reply. "It is. It really is."

She was sure Kurama's feelings didn't stray far from hers.

Makoto felt his ribcage rumble against her with contained laughter, eyes lit up with mirth, and she was just a tiny bit sad to let go when Jin and Suzuki saw them and rushed to their aid, one helping Kurama walk, the other guiding Makoto where the rest of their friends were.

Through the screen, their Yuusuke grinned, excited, defiant in front of a foe he couldn't beat, and daring fate to smack him in the face so he could prove it wrong.

Makoto, in that moment, saw the exact way in which Yuusuke would be defeated.

And it didn't take away the slightest bit of her excitement.

The crowd cheered, and so did Makoto, as the battle between Yomi and Raizen's son began.

* * *

 **A/N:**

The battle between Hiei and Mukuro happened in the third round, and at the time that Yuusuke vs Yomi was going to start in the manga, Mukuro was still fighting the second round against Natsume, so that's why I didn't cover it.

I would have liked Makoto to meet Mukuro, if only in passing, but it didn't fit anywhere, and this is already one of the longest chapters of the fic. I'll try to make it happen anyway, if not during the main story, in an extra chapter.

I would lie if I said that I know how many chapters of fic we have left, but probably a couple of them. I have several side stories I want to tell afterwards, but I'm a little sad that we're getting so close to the end.

Also, it's probably weird of me to say it, but Makoto has grown so much from the start, I feel like a proud mom.

Now onto the last stretch! Thank you so much for reading!


	22. Chapter 22

Only one, maybe two chapters left to go. I don't know how to deal with this other than staring blankly at the wall and crying to my friends about it.

 **Guest (1):** Thanks a lot for reading all this time! I hope you keep enjoying what's left in store.

 **YuYu4Ever:** Yes, the anime showed a lot more from the tournament. It's a shame that what comes after it got cut of, though! I think we may get Mako's reaction to what you mention in the next chapter, haha.

 **Guest (2):** Thank you! Glad you like it!

* * *

 **Chapter 22**

Enki was crowned king, and the barrier between worlds was brought down.

It happened in a very short time, and the specifics of it were anything but simple. Since Kurama didn't go back to the Demon World after the tournament, he and Makoto learned of what had happened from Botan, who came flying one day to knock on Makoto's window and ask if she could stay in her house for a few days.

A political crisis had shaken the foundations of the Spirit World after Koenma decided to press charges against his father, King Enma. And Koenma, sensing the danger and being the thoughtful person that he was, sent away some of the people he worked closely with while the situation got sorted.

Makoto had always thought about the Spirit World as a homogeneous block, so the possibility that some of its workers would need to go into exile had never crossed her mind until then. There had never been much room for dissidence when there was a king, a prince, and no one else with power to question the system.

But according to Botan, Koenma had. Since Yuusuke's first brush with the Black Black Club, and as he had told Makoto on the ferry to Hanging Neck Island, he had opened an investigation about the demons dwelling in the Human World that appeared in the Spirit World's registers in order to create a census that would help investigate disappearances. Moreover, when the theft of the Black Chapter came to light, he dug deeper into the archives, and in fact, that was what he had been doing the day that Makoto and Kurama had gone to talk to him.

What he uncovered was that many of the crimes committed by demons in the Human World had been encouraged by humans, and, furthermore, the Spirit World had captured and brainwashed demons with the same purpose. For decades, this had been the dynamic between the three worlds.

Because if demons were evil, the Spirit World had the perfect excuse to set up a barrier between worlds and keep the humans under its wing, to supervise the Human World and to gain control of some territory in the Demon World. All under the guise of protecting the weak, defenseless humans.

As soon as Enki formed a commission to build a new government for the Demon World, Koenma contacted him, and after a few talks in which Yuusuke was a key player, they agreed to make the issue public.

Koenma, young as he was compared to his father, had won more sympathies through his career than Enma, partly because he was a more accessible person and there wasn't a single soul in the Spirit World administration who hadn't seen him work to exhaustion, partly because the younger generations had deposited their hopes for change on him. When Enki added his support to the cause, the pressure led to King Enma's dethronement, and consequently,a new era of diplomatic relationships between spirits and demons.

The threat of violence had been present, because most of Enma's supporters came from the old guard of the military and high ranks of the administration, but it was soon clear that they wouldn't hold up against an army of demons, and after a week of threats, they were forced to back down.

Everybody's worst fears about lifting the barrier had never come true. From Makoto's limited point of view, save for the demonic presences she felt more often than usual, nothing too out of the ordinary had happened. Humans assumed the unusual-looking demons were cosplayers. Visiting demons were delighted to see another world and meet these mysterious creatures called humans that lived so fast and that the Spirit World had kept to itself for so long.

After happening across a few of them on the street, some of which had become really excited when they noticed that Makoto was neither demon or human and asked her for a picture, she had learned that many of the tourists were demons born after the barrier had been created, and they'd either not had the opportunity to travel, or had been discouraged by the difficulty.

Makoto was baffled that someone who came from tan endless expanse could be so fascinated by the tiny Human World, but she supposed they would have felt the same way about her when she couldn't tear her eyes from Gandara's buildings.

And like this, a month passed, and as the rumors of visitors from another world grew, Makoto spent her time making preparations for the future.

—

The rattling of the train went down in intensity and Makoto gathered her things. She was carrying a bag with a folder full of a month's worth of bureaucracy.

The door of her car opened and she stepped on the platform without paying attention to her surroundings. It was getting dark and she just wanted to get home to a warm bath and her bed, and she became annoyed when she was suddenly hit by the absolute certainty that she wouldn't be able to do so. The inconvenience would reveal itself in five seconds, give or take.

Getting intercepted by Yuusuke Urameshi on the platform wasn't in the order of the day, but she knew perfectly well that the guy did what he wanted, when he wanted, where he wanted.

Like suddenly appearing in the Human World when he was supposed to be chilling across dimensions, not grinning with underserved amounts of self-satisfaction.

On second thought, perhaps some of it was deserved, considering the miraculous upheaval he had caused.

"Surprise!"

Makoto wasn't impressed. Surprised, yes, as much as she could with previous notice, but not impressed. "Can you do something predictable for once in your life?"

"Not a chance!"

She hadn't expected a different answer, and fell into step by his side without opposing any further resistance. "How did you know I was here?"

"We went to your house and your mother told us you had gone to Tokyo."

She didn't need to ask who 'we' were.

They dodged their way around the rest of passengers to a row of seats inside the station, where Kurama and Kuwabara were.

Kuwabara waved at her. "How did it go at the school?"

"Swimmingly." It was the third trip she'd had to make just to hand in documents and fill out forms. "But I'm finally done."

"By the way, we told your mother we're kidnapping you," Yuusuke told her. "I've been craving the yakitori from the stand near the police station for a year and a half, and I wanna hear your version of what's been going on here."

"Have you seen Keiko yet?" Makoto asked.

"And that's a question for another time!" He declared, punching the air, and started walking ahead of the other three.

"He doesn't know how to face her," Kurama supplied.

"It tends to happen when you stand up a girl."

In that same train station, to choose a random example.

Kurama didn't need to reply because Kuwabara, oblivious to the jab, said, "I don't get him. He can spend three days punching a demon lord for fun but he's afraid to see his girlfriend."

" _Friend_ , Kuwabara. Friend," Kurama replied with a smile.

He sniggered. "Sure."

Once they arrived at the stand, Yuusuke gave them a summary of his last weeks, helping get the new regime settled down, but eventually the topic of the Spirit World came up when he mentioned the barrier.

"I can't believe you two were right." Kuwabara was fuming quietly. "They knew from the start. They set us up."

"Makes you wanna punch someone in the face, doesn't it?" Yuusuke said while he munched, apparently too casual for Kuwabara's taste.

"That's all you've gotta say? They were playing with lives!" Kuwabara raised his voice, and the owner of the stall sent a confused glance their way. Yuusuke shushed him and Kurama made an apologetic gesture at the owner. Kuwabara kept talking, but lower and with a pinch of embarrassment mixed in his indignation. "How many people have died because of their schemes? How many humans could have died when Sensui went nuts and they sent us instead of the SDF guys?" He set the skewer down on his plate with too much force. "Do they think they are gods or something?"

"It's what they've always played at," Kurama replied with gravity. "The status quo being what it was for so long, there was no one to question it."

"But how come the Demon World didn't react sooner?" Kuwabara asked. "Are you telling me no one cared?"

"The Spirit World has never paid their complaints any mind."

"That's ridiculous! If people like those Raizen and Mukuro had done something about it—"

"Think about it this way, Kuwabara. While the majority of people dislike the attitude of the Spirit World, it doesn't concern them. They only send soldiers to fringe areas that everybody with common sense tries to avoid, anyway." Makoto glanced at him after that last sentence, but Kurama continued as if he hadn't just referenced that time when he actually died. "The Spirit World cordoned off the Human World to keep it to themselves, and people in the Demon World don't care about humans. As long as King Enma didn't meddle too much in their world, they had no reason to act."

"Koenma said that the Spirit World only has under control a minuscule part of territory." Makoto said. "Do you think they did not try to conquer more on purpose?"

"It is a definite possibility. Press forward enough to make the citizens of the Spirit World believe that you are accomplishing something, but not too much to make demons uncomfortable."

"What matters is that Koenma's the one in charge now," Yuusuke said, shutting down the conversation. "I mean, I can complain all I want about him, but he's always busted his ass to help when it mattered. And Enki's cool. Everything's gonna be alright, you'll see."

Kurama chuckled under his breath, and Makoto had no choice but to believe Yuusuke, because unlikely as his claim was, his track record played in his favor.

Kuwabara let it go too, but not without one last poke at Yuusuke. "You sure have a lot of faith," he replied with suspicion.

"One day you'll understand, Kuwabara," Yuusuke said with a mockingly wise tone. "You'll see."

Kuwabara grumbled but didn't raise any other objections, and Yuusuke took the opportunity to grill him about his new life as a honor student (which, for Yuusuke, simply meant not failing every test as a rule of thumb, though granted, his friend was doing very well).

Kuwabara stayed with them long enough for dinner and left saying that he needed to study. The other three, much less concerned by their academic future, went on a walk by the river, and Makoto watched the twinkling stars a ways away from the guys while they commented, again, what Koenma's investigation had uncovered.

She was aware of what it meant for Yuusuke and the demons he had been sent after while he was detective. She could only imagine that helping build bridges between the worlds had been his way to make amends for contributing to the problem.

Makoto found the new information difficult to reconcile with her own prejudices, too, when she had spent all her life thinking demons would take advantage of humans at any chance they had, even if she should have known better.

After a while, Yuusuke went home, because apparently he hadn't even seen Atsuko yet, and Makoto and Kurama walked the rest of the way to their neighborhood by themselves.

"There's a chance that my mother will want to see all of you again, now that Yuusuke's back," Kurama commented.

"That will not be possible," Makoto said, looking at the ground.

Kurama's easy smile faltered. "How come?"

"I am leaving."

His eyes widened, and if Makoto looked hard enough she could see the gears of his brain running at full speed to concoct possibilities. "Where?"

"Wherever," she said. "I would like to travel for a bit before the next school year, but I do not plan on going too far." She looked at him. "Definitely not to another world, if that's what you were thinking."

That seemed to calm him down. "And what will you do about school? Exams?"

"I got Fumi's invaluable help," she said, the corner of her lips curving up. "You remember how often she missed class?"

"Yes?"

"She used calculate exactly how many days she could miss school without being held back a year. She did me the same favor."

Kurama hid a burst of laughter behind a hand. "How resourceful."

"More than you know. And it turns out that if I leave mid-December, I do not need to come back until March, just in time for finals. Passing them will be enough for the school I enrolled to. Grades do not matter."

"I see you've planned it to the detail."

"I did not want to disappoint."

"When are you leaving, then?"

"Next Monday." Since Kurama didn't reply, she added, "You cannot complain. I am giving you due notice."

"You are never going to let it go, are you?"

"Never," she repeated.

"I thought so." He sighed. "Is there a particular reason you want to leave?"

She had known that the question was coming. And while she had been thinking for some time about what to say, she hadn't found the proper words. "Everything is so different from what I thought."

Kurama kept silent, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I do not know if you are aware how much my life has turned upside down since you survived that night at the hospital. All the things I thought certain and unchanging have been coming undone one after the other. Ultimately for the better." She paused to think. "It made me realize how small I am. As well as my world."

"So you are going out there to expand it?"

"That is a way to put it." She wouldn't have said it with those words, because they sounded too self-aggrandizing for her taste. "I do not want to be held back by assumptions anymore. And I think some time on my own will help me put my thoughts in order." Her right hand started fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. "This makes me sound like a kid, does it not?"

"On the contrary." He said with a shining smile. "It sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Glad to have your approval," she said without a hint of sarcasm. "My parents did not react so understandingly. I convinced them saying it would help me build a better portfolio for photography school."

And she wouldn't have gone through the hassle to convince them so they let her go at any other point in her life, but she had stood her ground on the matter, and there wasn't much they could do to stop her.

"You have changed," Kurama said.

"I like to think so," she said, nodding curtly. "How could I not? It is rather difficult staying the same all the time. Speaking of which," she side-eyed him. "Are you sure about becoming a salaryman?"

"I'd like to settle down for a while and spend time with my family. I think a break would do me well."

"You want to become a salaryman to take a _break_?"

Kurama laughed quietly. Makoto, who remembered her dad's schedule before he was promoted, thought he was insane.

"You just cannot do things like a normal person, can you?" She said without any bite. None of them could. It was part of their charm, probably.

"Where would the fun be in that?"

And he had a point. "Touché."

The rest of the way home was spent chatting about their families, the spiral of stress that had swallowed their classmates, the increasing desperation of their homeroom teacher to push them towards a fine university, and, above all, wondering if she would miss these talks while she was away.

—

Makoto's parents gave her a cellphone before she left.

"Since you won't be here for your birthday," her father said.

It was more for their comfort than hers, she knew, so she didn't comment on it, even if being easy to reach 24/7 was the last thing she wanted.

She said her goodbyes quickly, because she didn't consider her temporary leave half as dramatic as her parents thought, and because she didn't want to argue if they tried to make her rethink her decision.

Carrying only a backpack and a sleeping bag, she set out to the train station, got the cheapest ticket she could find, and took a ride north.

From now on, it was only up to her where to go.

—

After two weeks of roaming smaller cities and a bit of the countryside, she ended up in Sendai.

Every December, until the end of the month, the city of Sendai set up magnificent Christmas decorations famous all over the country. Makoto had arrived to find the festival in full swing, and it was the main reason that had brought her to the city, but it was colder than she had expected. She had hoped to camp out in a park while she was there, but she'd had to check in at a cheap hostel after deciding that she wasn't ready to deal with frostbite while she lived on the road.

Thousands of small lights decorated the trees along a street that led to a park where the big displays had been set up. Cars, snowmen, castles, all shining under the cover of the night. In the distance, there was a provisional skating rink, and people came and went constantly.

That street seemed like the perfect place to put her plan in action.

Makoto sat on a wooden bench between two illuminated trees with a makeshift sign that said, 'Fortune telling – 100 yen.'

Her parents hadn't given her much money, doubtlessly hoping that she'd come home sooner than planned, but she wasn't as helpless as they assumed. She had decided early on in her trip that she'd make it last as much as possible, and since then, when she wasn't sightseeing, she had been touring the country offering her services.

As long as she lived off of conbini food, she was able to cover her food expenses with just a few customers. Whenever she attracted a group of high schoolers, she was set for a day. She had realized that her stare did not only have the unfortunate side-effect of unnerving people; it also gave credibility to her claim of having supernatural powers. Something about the creepy vibe convinced the people willing to be convinced.

Setting up shop near the festival soon proved to be a sound business move, and most days she was able to earn back the money she had spent to sleep somewhere warm. It was worth the wait and the effort, even if she was very tired that ninety percent of the people that approached her were young couples wanting to know if they'd stay together forever.

(Sometimes she could tell they would, looking at their eyes. Those were easy customers, and they left pleased.

Most of the times she didn't know, so she made something vague up.

Then there were the times when she saw things she didn't like. She always told them, and those didn't usually pay, but as long as the price of truth and a clean conscience was 100 yen, she was happy to pay it.)

Makoto learned in time that the people who came up to her didn't so much want to know their future, as to talk to somebody who wouldn't judge them. She had her friends to thank for helping her get better at that.

She had racked up a thousand yen in one evening when two girls around her age, chaperoned by an elderly man, approached her.

"You're a fortune-teller?" Said one on them. "Our friend was here yesterday and said you were the real deal."

"That is for you to decide," Makoto said, same as every time someone asked her that question.

"She doesn't look any older than us," another whispered at the first one.

Makoto looked at her in the eye. The girl stilled, unnerved, and then Makoto said, "You will get in, even without the recommendation. But you should be home studying."

The girl's mouth opened gradually as she turned red, closed it all of a sudden, and busied herself readjusting the hood of her coat. Her friend and the man looked at her expecting an answer, but she only whispered a nearly inaudible thanks.

"Cool," the first girl said under her breath. "Hey, can I ask you something? It's about my mom."

Makoto returned her attention to her and sought her eyes. A middle-aged woman on a bed, lying on her side, flashed before her eyes. She was sleeping peacefully, and the person – the girl who was asking Makoto – was worried, but happy at the same time.

It was difficult for the vision not to merge with the image of Ms. Minamino – _Mrs. Hatanaka_ , she corrected mentally, _Hatanaka_ – on her hospital bed, gone, seared in Makoto's memory forever, but she hadn't gotten any sense of dread with this premonition.

It was always easier to see, to deduce the things that were at the forefront of someone's mind.  
"Is she ill?"

The girl was silent for a second. "How do you know?"

"What was your question?"

"Hm…" The girl crossed her arms. "She's been going to doctors very often, but she won't tell me why. Can you tell me what's going on with her?"

Makoto thought for a moment how to proceed. If she could check an object, maybe she'd get a clue, be it through a vision or an energy imprint. "Do you have anything she has touched recently?"

"A bracelet," the girl said reticently. "Why?"

"May I touch it?"

After a moment of hesitation, the girl rolled back the sleeve of her coat to show Makoto a fine, silver chain clasped around her wrist. Makoto reached out to touch it when the man, who had remained silent until then, stepped in between the two.

Quite literally. Makoto's outstretched arm was going through his stomach when he spoke, and she felt an unnatural chill from head to toe.

"If you try to take it from her or trick her I'll—I'll…!" He threatened.

She hadn't seen it with thanks to the many lights and shadows the Christmas decorations casted, but the silhouette of the man was shimmery. He wasn't alive.

"I am not going to take anything from her," Makoto replied calmly. The man looked astonished when he received a reply. "Please, step aside."

"Who are you talking to?" The second girl said. She was partially hidden behind the other one.

"There is a man following you around," Makoto said. "Balding with white hair and a yellowed moustache—"

"What kind of description is that?" The man complained. He still hadn't moved, and Makoto's arm was going numb, but she wasn't going to move first because this was a battle of willpower.

"—and he is looking after you." Makoto pointed at the first girl with the outstretched arm. "Do you know who he may be?"

"That—that sounds like my grandpa, but he—it can't be, he died last year. How do you know?"

"I assume he is worried about you and he does not want me to touch the bracelet."

The girl took half a step back and tried to see something in front of her to no avail. "Is… is he in front of you?"

"Yes."

Suddenly, the girl took another step, this time forward, tried to shove aside what she couldn't see, and as her arm went through her grandfather she shivered and said, "That's enough, gramps, how many times do I have to tell you that I can take care of myself?"

The surprise made the man stumble to the side. "I'm sorry, dear, I didn't want to—"

"He has moved aside," Makoto said, cutting him, because the granddaughter couldn't hear his apology anyway. "The bracelet, please?"

"Oh, yes." The girl held her wrist in front of Makoto. "Here."

She touched it just with her thumb and index fingers, hoping for a memory, but nothing of the sort came. The chain was imbued with the wearer's energy, but there was a strong trace of someone else that Makoto assumed was the mother. The two energies held a similar characteristic, but after a short inspection, Makoto detected something else. Someone else had left their imprint in that bracelet, and it was similar to the other two, though fainter. A close relative for sure.

"Do you have any siblings?" Makoto asked the girl.

"I'm an only child," the girl replied.

"And your mother?"

"No." She shook her head energetically. "Why? Is something wrong?"

That was odd. It definitely felt like close family, and three different people had left their imprint in there; that was doubtless once she had realized it, but if there weren't any siblings— _oh. Of course_.

"Your mother is pregnant," Makoto sentenced, letting go of the chain and retreating her hand into her pocket. Cold.

"I'm going to be a grandparent again?" The man exclaimed at the same time the girl let out a surprised, "What?"

"She cannot be too far along," she said, and the vision from before came to mind. Everything clicked into place. "But enough for a soul to be in the embryo. Your mother is over fifty, right?"

"Y-yeah."

The other girl kept glancing between her friend and Makoto with a frightened look.

"It may be a high-risk pregnancy at that age. That must be why she goes to the doctor so often."

"Really? Am I really having a brother or a sister?" A smile grew on the girl's face and her eyes lit up. "Can you tell me if it's a boy or a girl?"

"I… do not think it is any of those yet," Makoto replied.

"Oh, right." She paused for a moment. "Should I tell her that I know?"

"You should. I only told you what I think is likely." Makoto tried to shrug, but moving mean that her clothes would shift, and shifting meant the cold could come in. "I may be wrong."

"I'm heading home right now," she said, reaching for her wallet and handing Makoto two hundred yen. "A tip for the good news! Thank you!"

"We'll tell our classmates to come," the other chimed in. "Thanks."

Makoto nodded at them in acknowledgement. "Merry Christmas. And carry two pens on the day of your exams. One will dry out."

The two girls walked away laughing excitedly, and the last one to go was the ghost, who bowed at Makoto and followed them after she returned the gesture.

Makoto counted the coins in her pocket. 1,500 yen. It had been a few profitable hours.

She put the money away and made herself comfortable on the bench, waiting for the next customer, as she daydreamed of hot soup.

—

December 31st rolled around, and with it, Makoto's birthday.

She was taking a train towards the south the next day. In fact, she had meant to do it sooner, but the Pageant of Light was pretty and guaranteed her customers left and right, so she decided to remain in the city until the last day.

There weren't as many people on the last night of the year, though. Makoto had hoped that at least a few would be reckless enough to celebrate the coming of the new year outside, but compared to the other days, it was nearly empty, and soon she realized that she wasn't going to make any business that night.

She threw the sign in the nearest trashcan, which wasn't easy to find, and walked along the pathway illuminated by the trees on each side. Fumi would have loved to see it. And her parents, and Yukina, and Kuwabara, and maybe even Kurama, even though she was sure he had seen much more impressive things before…

Makoto didn't feel lonely, but regardless, she thought it was a shame to be there alone.

Those were her thoughts when her phone, which she had lovingly christened as Mr. Brick, rang in her backpack.

It was unexpected. She had spoken to her parents and Fumi that morning, so she wasn't expecting any calls.

She fumbled to reach for it in time and took the call, wondering who could it be and mildly annoyed that her moment was being interrupted.

"Hello?"

"Happy birthday."

Her grip on the phone faltered. "Kurama? How did you get this number?"

"I asked Fumiko. Does it bother you?"

"No," she said too quickly, and she added, trying to sound calmer, "no, it does not. But she gave you the number willingly?"

"She was suspiciously cooperative, now that you mention it."

"I figured."

Makoto could hear the smile on Kurama's voice when he asked, "Where are you now?"

"Sendai, at the Pageant of Light. It ends tonight."

"I've heard about it. How is it in person?"

"More impressive than on TV."

"I can imagine."

"I think you would like it. And it is very quiet, today."

"Are you alone?"

"As always." It didn't bother her.

"Isn't it kind of lonely to spend your birthday away from everybody?"

"It feels strange," she admitted. "But I do not regret it. I am seeing many new things and meeting many people." She sighed quietly. "Perhaps too many."

"My condolences, in that case."

"No, it's all right. Did I ever tell you," she said all of a sudden, resuming her walk under the Christmas lights, talking about the first thing that crossed her mind just to keep his company a little while longer, "that I was not actually born today? Probably, anyway."

"That's news to me," he said. "How come you celebrate your birthday today?"

"Today is the day I met my family and I got my name."

"It makes sense. I suppose I do the same, in a way" he said.

"You and I are so alike," Makoto joked.

But Kurama replied sincerely. "Surprisingly. If someone had told me years ago that I would find so much in common with some people in this world, I wouldn't have believed it."

"You have changed, too," Makoto said. Not because she had experienced it firsthand, but because she had heard enough about the old Kurama to know he was a very different person. Same core with shiny new values.

"You don't know half of it." And after a brief pause asked tentatively, unsure if he was crossing a line. "Don't answer this if you don't want to, but does that mean you had another name before?"

"No, no," she waved him off casually. "I do not collect names like you. I have always been Makoto."

She had never even considered that she _was_ before Nana named her. It didn't feel like it. She was an entity called Makoto, and before Makoto there was no one.

It made a lot of sense in her mind. She was aware that it didn't when said out loud.

"Then, before that…?"

Makoto hummed affirmatively. She liked that Kurama was smart enough to save her many explanations.

"That goes beyond parental neglect," he said, tone dark.

"Yes. But honestly, I think it is better this way. I would not know what to do with two names."

He recovered his humor quickly when he heard Makoto's light remark. "I am sadly proof of that."

"Imagine that I had gotten attached to the old one. The break was cleaner this way."

In a sense, it had been very convenient. She had had nothing to hold onto, so it hadn't been hard to let go.

"Did you ever miss her? Your old mother?"

"I did while I still lived with her," she replied. "She was never around much. Even if I knew my stay was only temporary, a child is a child. I suppose I felt lonely sometimes. It does not matter anymore, though."

"Of course. Sorry that I asked."

"I would not have told you if I did not want to. I like talking to you."

"The feeling is mutual."

She didn't reply right away because she didn't know what she was supposed to say to that. It occurred to Makoto then that Kurama could bend all those illuminated trees to his will. Heck, he probably had shiny trees somewhere in his repertoire. The Sendai city hall didn't know that it was missing out.

"I wish you were here," she said without thinking, and she realized too late that it had sounded whiny.

"Didn't you say you weren't lonely?"

"I did. I was just looking at the trees."

The chuckles on the other side of the line gave her warm fuzzies, strong enough to overcome the icy winter wind, if only for an instant. Makoto heard a group of young people walking to the park, laughing at something on the radio. She glanced at her watch and saw it was past ten.

"Shouldn't you be with your family?" She asked.

"I escaped from the New Year's Eve TV special."

"Do not do that to your mom."

"She's the one who told me to call already, actually."

"Really?"

"Really. She sends her regards and wants me to tell you to come back soon, and that there's lemon pudding waiting for you."

Makoto was, from the bottom of her shriveled up heart, forever glad that Shiori Hatanaka existed. Minamino still sounded better, though.

"I notice that you have excluded yourself from that statement," she said.

"You wouldn't change your plans anyway."

"You know me well."

He laughed. "I try. But are you going to be alone—?"

"If you are going to suggest to keep the call going until midnight, I will hang on you."

"Okay," he said right away.

"The bill would be monstrous."

She wouldn't have minded to spend the next two hours talking to him, truth be told. Did that mean he wouldn't have, either?

"I said okay." He was laughing inside. She could feel it even from there.

"Then hurry up. Go celebrate the New Year with your family like the good son you are."

"All right," he relented. "Take care while you're out there."

"Always," she said with a tiny smile. "And thank you for calling. I am happy that you remembered."

That he cared. That she mattered.

"My pleasure."

She pressed the red button of her phone with reticence and put it away.

The group from before was further up ahead, in the park, and some of them were on the ice rink while others took out thermos and blankets. After a few minutes of Makoto watching the sculptures by her lonesome, one of the girls shouted, "Hey! Are you alone? Come with us!"

Makoto turned to look at her with surprise. They looked like college kids, and it seemed they'd had the idea to celebrate the New Year's Eve with warm drinks and instant ramen on the park. One of them was pouring hot water into noodle cups while another tried to tune in something on the radio.

She considered ignoring them and finding a quiet place to stay the night. She remembered old warnings from her parents to never go with strangers, the time when Fumiko and she met, and when her memory threatened to go to places that were best left alone, she put her apprehension aside and walked up to them. Funny how ingrained habits worked, that she was more reticent to go near a group of unknown humans than demons.

The ramen guy looked up and handed her a cup. "Name's Kenjiro. Are you a backpacker?"

He was smiling over the steaming cups and Makoto thought that he seemed much nicer than the last Kenji she had met, who she really hoped had indeed met an untimely death against a curb.

She took the cup by the edges, careful not to get burned. "Yes. Are you here to celebrate?"

"Better than our student apartment. It's _tiny_."

The girl who had first called Makoto moved aside so she could sit on the bench, and when she hit her friend on the edge, he complained. "Careful, Nana, I almost dropped the radio!"

Makoto, in turn, almost dropped the ramen, and her head snapped towards the guy immediately upon hearing the name.

"Sorry, sorry!" And the girl turned to Makoto, all smiles, a short bob of black hair peeking out from under a pink knit hat. "I'm Nanako, but these guys call me Nana," she said. "What's your name?"

Just like a night fifteen years before, there she was, meeting a Nana she didn't know, a Nana that stared at her with the same openness and expectation, but there was a key difference: this time she had an answer to give.

Makoto didn't believe in coincidences, so she didn't know what to make of this. But if there was something she that had learned in all this time, it was that she didn't need to _know_ to _enjoy_.

She sat down, thinking that perhaps dead people had a way to stay between their loved ones, that they never truly went away, and that if that was the case, that she was a fortunate person.

"Makoto," she replied with a warm feeling.

—

It was during one her many train rides, where her only company until the next station was a middle-aged couple snoring on the other side of the car, that a terrible revelation hit Makoto.

The hours were thick and passed so slow that she was considering if time was made out of molasses, when, for a fanciful moment, she thought that Kurama must have been out of school already and that it would be nice to call him to catch up.

The idea had sprung up so out of the blue, so sincere, and so unlike her that, try as she might, she could not rule out the possibility that she had grown to like Kurama in a not so platonic way.

She filed away this horrifying new knowledge and pushed it to the deepest recesses of her mind, where she wouldn't stumble on it accidentally, turned her cellphone off, and took a beaten up book from her backpack to kill time until she reached her destination.

—

Some weeks down the road, Makoto found herself back in Kyoto, which was much more pleasant than she remembered when she wasn't being herded around with her classmates.

She had considered revisiting the city at some point during her trip, but it hadn't been a high priority on her list until that last night in Sendai. Nanako and her friends told her to go back to Fushimi Inari, but at night.

It's like it's a different place, they said.

Like the mountain's alive.

So not expecting much after her first experience, but with her camera in tow, nonetheless, because it was a good place to take pictures and she only had daytime ones, she ate a couple of rice balls inside the train station and set out to the temple, which was right outside, when the sun set.

The main gate was the same as last time; the stairs leading to it flanked by two fox statues holding a key and a jewel in their mouths, watching silently, attentively, whoever entered their sacred grounds.

Makoto felt observed.

She tossed a five-yen coin into the offering box, rang the bell, and regretted it immediately when a stream of feelings, images, desires – it was the most accurate way she could describe it, because as always, it was very difficult to put in words the experience of a sense that wasn't even contemplated by language – coursed through her like a lightning bolt and left her feeling attacked and very skittish.

There weren't any other visitors around, so she took her sweet time tinkering with her camera and shooting around the temple. The feeling of being watched didn't leave her, and made her look over her shoulder all the time, but she didn't see anybody.

She blamed it on the power of suggestion and did her best to ignore it.

When she was satisfied with the pictures, she looked at the path that led to the inner shrine, the one lined by thousands of _torii_ , suddenly certain that something was waiting for her there.

She knew Nanako and her friends had been right as soon as she took the first step.

Walking under the first _torii_ wasn't unlike crossing the tunnel between dimensions.

The lighting was dim and cast strange shadows everywhere; the succession of torii conforming a surreal-looking passage with no end in sight. It was a long way to the inner shrine, and the path was irregular and slippery at times. If this were a horror movie, it would be the precise instant in which a vengeful spirit would appear in front of her to kill her. Fortunately for Makoto, spirits weren't usually so violent, and she wasn't completely defenseless against such an attack.

She tried to keep the restlessness at bay by taking pictures of the otherworldly scenery. At a certain point, she tripped over something and almost fell, and when she looked down expecting a stone sticking out of the ground, instead she found a blank _ema_ , one of the wooden plaques where visitors wrote their wishes and prayers. She picked it up, assuming someone going to one of the smaller shrines had lost it, and hung it on her backpack.

When she glanced at her watch, still halfway to her destination, she knew she had missed the last train and she could either turn back and try to find a place where they would let her check in so late, or keep going and camp somewhere inconspicuous. She didn't get the feeling that she was in any mortal danger. On the contrary, the feeling of being watched made her feel somewhat safe, so she pressed forward. Whatever power hung over that mountain, be it naturally born or prompted by humankind's religious fervor, wasn't menacing, alien as it felt.

Less than five minutes had passed, though she couldn't have told without checking her watch again, because the atmosphere made her lose track of time, when she saw another light source to the side, between the red-orange wood beams. Careful not to misstep, she slid between two _torii_ and went off the beaten path, following what looked like a blue flame hovering between the trees.

And that was exactly what she found, accompanied by a small, furry creature donning a hat.

"Um," she said very eloquently.

It looked like she had interrupted a conversation.

" _You can see us?_ "

The voice coming from the flame was faint, and Makoto couldn't tell if it belonged to and adult or a child. She assumed this was a will-o-wisp, and though it didn't have any recognizable features, she was sure that she was being stared at.

"I can."

"Oh, that's good. I can smell the demon in you under the human disguise," the furry creature said. There was no question that they were a demon, too. "I am a traveler, and this charming fellow was telling me that he has been haunting this forest for quite some time. Will you join us?"

Undeterred by the weirdness of the situation, and mainly because she had nothing better to do and they seemed like friendly people, Makoto approached the odd pair and put down her sleeping bag so she didn't have to sit on the cold ground.

"Is that where humans sleep?" The demon said, peering at the fabric with curiosity. "Is it comfortable?"

"It keeps you warm."

"I see," they replied, and pointed at their fur. "I wouldn't have much use for one, would I? But these humans come up with the darnedest things."

The will-o-wisp cleared the throat it didn't have to reclaim some attention.

"Ah, sorry, my friend here—"

" _You have an_ ema _!_ " It exclaimed, and started to whirl around Makoto and her bag. She had to look down because the spinning flame was making her dizzy. " _My lady, I humbly request your assistance. May I ask your name?_ "

"Makoto," she said automatically, wondering how old exactly was the spirit.

" _Pleased to meet you! My name is Shigenosuke Miyagawa, seventh master of the dojo—well, I was supposed to be the seventh master before—oooh, master, I am deeply sorry for disappointing you and all of our predecessors—_ "

"What he wants to say," the demon said as the will-o-wisp continued moaning to himself, "is that he was tasked to hang an _ema_ at one of the shrines, but he died before he could."

" _I did not simply die!_ " Shigenosuke said, outraged, " _I was bested in honorable combat, fell in battle like a warrior should!_ "

"How long have you been here?" Makoto asked.

" _Since the spring of the fifth year of the Tenmei era. I do not recall the day anymore…_ "

Makoto was no expert in Japanese history, but she was fairly sure that that had been sometime during the Tokugawa shogunate. So, between one and three centuries.

"And you have waited just to… fulfill your duty?"

" _Duty is of utmost importance, lady Makoto!_ " Her eyebrows twitched at the tacked on title, but Shigenosuke went on. " _Day after day I tried to find a generous soul who would listen and purchase an_ ema _for me, but alas, it has been considerably difficult to interact with the living world. Several elegant ladies wearing_ furisode _tried to convince me to abandon my orders and pass onto the next life, but I will not do that._ " There was a small pause as he admitted in a barely audible tone, " _A dozen times have monks attempted to exorcise me. But I will not falter!_ "

"So," Makoto said, summarizing the mess of an explanation she had been given, "you want me to write an _ema_ for you and hang it at a shrine?"

" _I would be most grateful._ "

Makoto had the impression that the flame bowed. She cleaned as much dirt as she was able to from the plaque and dug out of the backpack the marker she used to make her fortune-telling signs.

"All right," she said when she was ready. "What should I write?"

The Shigenosuke cleared his nonexistent throat once again and said, " _Please make O-Ume's child grow strong and healthy._ "

Makoto waited for more, but the message seemed to stop there. "Is that all?"

" _Indeed._ "

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but humans don't live for centuries, do they?" The demon asked. "If this O-Ume was an acquaintance of yours…"

" _She was my master's daughter,_ " the will-o-wisp said, and the undertone of affection didn't go unnoticed by Makoto. " _A fine young woman, most graceful and beautiful, married scarcely for a year and a half, and with a sickly baby. We all wished for his recovery. In a perfect world, he would have succeeded me, you see._ "

"Do you know what happened to him?"

" _Unfortunately, no. I have been unable to leave the mountain since my death. I suppose it has to do with my unfinished mission._ "

"It will not be of much use anymore," Makoto said.

" _I gave my word_ ," Shigenosuke said. " _I shall not break it._ "

"Not on my account, certainly," Makoto said. Perhaps there was some retroactive value in the wish. Perhaps the baby had grown up to become a skilled samurai, after all. "Where is the shrine?"

" _I will guide you through the forest. But is it all right to move while it is so dark?_ "

"I can manage," Makoto said, kneeling down to roll up her sleeping bag and attach it to her backpack once again. "Just let me secure this and I will be ready to go."

" _Ah, what a spirited woman. Are you from Edo, by any chance?_ "

"Somewhere nearby," Makoto said.

"I'll go with you," the demon said. "I still have many shrines to see. Humans really like foxes, don't they?"

Makoto adjusted the bag's straps and said, "I cannot speak for them, but I do know a fox that really likes humans."

"Ah! We have tales like that!"

" _So do we_ ," Shigenosuke added. " _Perhaps we are not as different as we thought._ "

The demon laughed. "Isn't it funny?"

Looking at the ensemble the three of them made, Makoto couldn't help but think that it probably was.

" _Let us proceed!_ " Shigenosuke declared. " _You have my eternal gratitude, lady Makoto._ "

"It is no bother." If only every paranormal issue she had come across in her life had had such an easy solution. "I will make sure someone comes to pick you up to guide you to the afterlife."

" _Your generosity know no bounds! May we meet again in the next life, milady._ "

"I am not a noblewoman nor a samurai," Makoto finally said after a lot of grating on her ears.

" _But that silky black hair! Those deep onyx eyes! That indomitable spirit! Surely you must come from an honorable family._ "

"Well," she considered for a moment, "that, I do."

Their demon companion laughed as if she had made a very funny joke, and together they walked carefully through the forest to a small shrine where a fox statue watched them with narrowed eyes and a sly smile, more alive than any stone animal had any right to be.

But of course, knowing what she did, Makoto wouldn't put anything past a fox's ability, living or not.

And not for the first, nor second time since she had left her home, Makoto caught herself wishing Kurama could be there, together with their unlikely group, on a long overdue mission. She didn't doubt that he would be having a lot of fun.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to go back home a little sooner.


	23. Chapter 23

**WARNING:** This chapter deals with the last part of the manga, which has a subplot that significantly changes the anime ending. If you don't want to get it spoiled, you should read the manga first!

Happy Holidays, everyone! It's the 26th here, but I'm sure many of you will see this update on the 25th, so let this chapter be my present for you. I wanted to update before Makoto's birthday, on the 31st, and for once in a while I managed to finish before the deadline!

So...

This is it. We've reached the end. My thoughts will be at the bottom, so for now, I'll only say I hope you enjoy this final chapter.

 **Guest:** Ah, but will it happen, or…? You'll find out soon!

 **Kalmaegi:** Yep, I didn't get to show much because it wasn't relevant, but Makoto ended up spending quite some time with Yuusuke and, later, with Yukina. The guys from the tournament, too. Everybody seems to end up at Genkai's. And Makoto travelling on her own was something I'd wanted to do for a while precisely because she wasn't at the center of the events, but she is the protagonist of her own life after all, so I wanted to show her away from the others.

 **Aliathe:** It's been happening little by little, but when you take the Makoto from chapter one and compare her to the current one, she has changed a lot. It took even me by surprise, haha.

 **Noname:** Thank you truly. I am glad that this story has been a small help to you and I'm very touched that you'd like to read more of Makoto. But this final chapter isn't really the end of Mako's story, and there are a few side stories I'd like to explore in extra chapters, so that's something to look forward to if you are interested.

 **Guest** (2) **:** Ah well, this has only been around for a year or so, so unless you're extremely young… But jokes aside, I'm happy that you like it, and you've showed just in time for the ending!

* * *

 **Chapter 23**

Yuusuke set a bowl of steaming _tonkotsu_ ramen in front of Makoto, crossed his arms, and stared with a face way more serious than he was while she caught a few noodles with her chopsticks and tasted them.

"Well?"

Keiko, sitting on the stool next to Makoto, waited for her verdict as well.

Who could have told Makoto that Yuusuke would open a ramen stand, of all things, while she was gone? She didn't even know he could cook, which, in retrospect, should have been obvious, considering that Atsuko was… well, Atsuko. She was living proof that being kind-hearted and negligent weren't incompatible traits.

But back to the food, Yuusuke wasn't merely proficient, he was also skilled. "You will never cease to surprise me."

Satisfied, Yuusuke turned to Keiko, "See? I'm _good_ at this."

"Don't be so smug. It's just ramen. My parents' is better."

Makoto made a noise of agreement with a full mouth.

"Oh, yeah? Then how about you stop coming here to eat for free?"

"You wish," she said, pulling apart her chopsticks and digging into her bowl as well. "Put Makoto's on your tab, too."

"Seriously? You too?" He said to Makoto.

"I left my wallet home," she said between bites of pork.

He turned his nose. "That sounds like a lie."

"You did not tell me Yukina and Kuwabara are living together," she said, significantly not denying that she did indeed have her wallet in her purse.

"I forgot, okay? What with catching up with everybody…"

Makoto's eyes narrowed. "You had just seen her!"

"Go complain to Kurama about it, he could've told you later, anyway," he retorted.

"What makes you think I have not?" She let out a sigh through her nose. "I need to see Yukina. I wonder how she's adapting."

She also thought of Master Genkai, who she had earlier assumed was alone again save for Puu, but the doors of her temple were always open for visitors, even if she rarely said so, and since the removal of the barrier, she'd had more guests than Makoto could count. Genkai had made many enemies in her life, but even more friends.

"Right, you saw her a lot while I was away," he said. "I wouldn't worry about her. Kuwabara's busting his ass looking after her and his sister's watching like a hawk, but even if they weren't she's as tough as they come. She came here alone a few weeks ago to ask if I knew anything about Hiei."

"Does she…?"

Yuusuke smirked and wiggled his eyebrows with complicity. "Who knows?"

"Hm? What do you mean?" Keiko asked, and Yuusuke's expression turned sour.

"Demon world stuff, you know. It's complicated."

"Really?" Her eyes turned into slits. "And what does Yukina have to do with it?"

"Sheesh, Keiko, let it—"

"What about you two?" Makoto interrupted them before Keiko could get the answer out of Yuusuke, because she was certain that she would if she set her mind to it.

They stopped bickering to look at her.

"What about us?" Keiko asked.

"When is the wedding? And isn't Yuusuke practicing to help at your family's restaurant?"

Makoto noticed the warmth creeping on Keiko's face as the same speed that Yuusuke's smile grew.

"What are you talking about?" Keiko, said, staring at her bowl.

"I thought you were going to marry when Yuusuke got back?"

Keiko slapped the counter. "What did you tell her?!"

Meanwhile, Yuusuke looked very satisfied with himself, but he still took a step back to stay out of her chopsticks' range. "Same thing I told you. We had a deal!"

"I never agreed to it!"

"There is no reason to be embarrassed, Keiko," Makoto said.

"I am not embarrassed," she said, evidently flustered. "And what about _you_?"

"Me?"

"You and Kurama."

Makoto looked at Keiko skeptically and stared while she kept chewing on her food. Since it didn't seem like Keiko was going to relent with such a tactic, she swallowed and said, "If I did not know better, I would think you have been spending time with Fumi."

Despite Makoto's answer, or most likely to spite her, Yuusuke held onto the line cast by Keiko with a grin, leaning on the counter.

"C'mon, you can't say there's nothing there."

"It is not my fault that you have to reach so hard to fling something back at me. Get actual dirt on me, scoundrels."

Yuusuke snorted and turned to check on the broth he had on the stove.

"I'm not sure I buy that," Keiko said.

"To be fair, they don't seem the type to be interested."

"Listen to Yuusuke just this once," Makoto said, secretly glad that he wasn't insisting.

"I guess…" Keiko sighed. "You're no fun."

"I am deeply sorry." Makoto took the bowl and held it towards Yuusuke. "More _nori_ , please."

"Where do you put all that food?"

"A small height variation can make a world of difference." And, as a practical demonstration, she parted her chopsticks as many inches as she had over him.

"You know what, you are paying in full for both of you."

"We can discuss that after the _nori_."

"You are such a kid, Yuusuke."

Yuusuke grumbled and dumped more seaweed on Makoto's bowl. "One day the _mazoku_ genes will kick in, and we'll see who laughs last then. We'll see."

"I will be waiting from up here," she said before attacking the new toppings. "Besides, take consolation in being still taller than Hiei."

Keiko laughed into her bowl.

"I'm never cooking for any of you again."

" _Boo_."

—

Months went by, and autumn arrived.

Everything was running perfectly in the Spirit World. A year had passed since Enma's dethronement, and Koenma had solidified his position as the sole ruler after extensive personnel changes and policy readjustments. He had created new departments in the Spirit World's headquarters to help him deal with the new reality, and a new generation of civil servants had taken the spots of those terminated in the aftermath, ready to rebuild the system to adapt it to the current times.

Official versions were always so clean-cut and aseptic.

Reality, however, had the annoying tendency to be muddier. The mud being, in this case, all the people that had seen themselves replaced with the administration change, and more specifically, a religious sect that had enjoyed great popularity in earlier centuries.

Even then, no one expected what happened.

The first to know was Yuusuke, alerted by the head of the new SDF.

Makoto happened to be returning from photography school and thinking that she could drop by Yuusuke's stand when she got the feeling that she really should change her route, so, following her intuition, she got off the train on her stop instead of Sarayashiki's, and took the least direct way home. Something big was about to happen.

 _One, two…_

There was someone at the park.

 _Three._

It didn't surprise her to see Kurama there. It was the SDF soldier talking to him that made her wonder just how bad the situation was. Apparently, enough to share right away with her what was going on.

That was when she learned that the incident all of them had been expecting a year ago had finally happened: the most conservative, hard-line officials under Enma's command had banded together to get their power back. Among them, there was Ootake, the previous commander of the SDF, and current leader of the religious group trying to take over the Spirit World.

Their method of choice was getting holed up in the Spirit World's Gates of Justice with all its workers as hostages and threaten to shoot a cannon at the Human World unless the demons currently in it vacated it and the barrier separating the worlds was erected again.

No one mentioned Enma's involvement, but it was hard to imagine an attack of that caliber could be conducted without his approval.

Yuusuke had agreed to help, because this was him we were talking about, and had asked the SDF to get a hold of the guys to form a strike team and save the day, as in the old days.

Over two years had gone by since Yuusuke's short stint as a Spirit Detective, and the four hadn't been together since they parted ways to go to the Demon World. Makoto felt alarmed when she realized she had known them for so long. How had time passed this fast?

There she was, listening to a Spirit World soldier ask one of her best friends, who happened to be a famous demon criminal, help to fight his former bosses.

There was some comfort to be found in confirming that life hadn't taken a massively weird turn only for her.

Kurama and the soldier left for Yuusuke's with the promise to keep her updated if anything of note happened.

Her psychic radar's alarm wasn't blaring like it usually did in the face of disaster, so she guessed there was nothing to worry about, but she couldn't help but feel some unrest. Anticipation.

"You will be fine," she said as a farewell, which didn't do much to ease the soldier's nerves, but earned her a smile from Kurama, so it was well worth it.

He was raring to go, anyway, after being inactive for so long, and she knew better than to doubt his ability to get out of the stickiest situations.

Still, the hours passed slowly, and she was forced to confess at home that she was _slightly_ impatient for news when she almost tripped over Doraemon in the hallway and swore. Loudly.

Doraemon just flicked his stubby tail at her, glaring over his shoulder, and strutted away like the fluffy, fickle creature it was.

The call came past midnight, while Makoto wasted time trying to do an assignment she wasn't paying any attention to, and the message couldn't be clearer: there was a good chance that the cannon would be fired with no means to stop it, and it was pointing at Sarayashiki. The entire city and its surroundings would be blown up if it happened. Yuusuke was on the case, but everybody was in danger.

Kurama told her all of this over the phone as he rushed to Yuusuke's home to alert Atsuko and Keiko, while Kuwabara did the same with his family.

"Should I go to your house?" She asked.

"My family's out with some relatives – don't worry about them, just get your parents out of town as fast as you can."

Kurama cut off the call before she was able to reply, and she immediately ran upstairs to wake up her parents and give them a summary of the situation. She then left the house while they got out of bed to head for the car, and hurried next door to Fumiko's.

She jumped over the garden fence, and with the help of a waterway and a windowsill, she boosted herself to Fumiko's window with ease.

In retrospect, she'd think that it was really obvious that if demons didn't commit more petty crimes against humans was because they honestly didn't want to.

But since it wasn't the time to reflect on interspecies coexistence, instead she rapped on Fumiko's window insistently, hoping that she woke up without her parents noticing. Makoto wasn't all that fond of Fumiko's parents, and neither was their daughter, and she was sure they would only be a problem if they had to give them explanations.

Fumiko was Makoto's priority. As cold as it sounded, she couldn't care less about the rest of the household.

After a bit of insistence, Fumiko shifted, opened her eyes lazily, and when she saw Makoto at the window her sleepiness went out with a poof. She opened the window immediately and whispered, "What's going on? You haven't done this in years."

"The Spirit World is about to fire a cannon against us. Yuusuke's trying to stop it, but there are no guarantees. We have to get out of here."

Fumiko mouthed something that looked like _holy shit_ while the words registered in her brain, and scrambled to pick up the clothes she had discarded before going to bed.

"How are we leaving?"

It was telling about their relationship that Fumiko didn't say anything about her parents.

"Mom and dad are getting the car ready. I can hear the engine already."

"Okay. Okay." Fumiko breathed deeply while she zipped a jacket over her clothes and went back to the window. "Holy shit, why does all this fuckery keep happening around us?"

"It happens around everybody; they are just unaware." Makoto looked down and jumped, gesturing at Fumiko to follow.

"Ignorance is bliss and all, huh," she muttered, latching onto a pipe that ran down the wall and sliding down very carefully. She had used it a lot when she was a kid, but she wasn't sure it could support her weight anymore. "Damn, I wish I could jump like that."

Makoto breathed with relief when Fumiko hit the ground, took her friend's hand and ran towards her home, but with the nagging feeling that she was forgetting something important, someone unaccounted for. But there wasn't anybody else in the vicinity that she cared about, and the others had Sarayashiki under control.

Then why?

She saw her mom get into the car with Doraemon wrapped in a blanket, and when her dad drove the car into the street, Fumiko said before getting in, "Thanks for the ride!"

"It's nothing! We've got to look after each other."

Fumiko grinned as she opened the back door and slipped inside, "Who else would, right?"

Makoto's heart stopped as she was about to sit down.

" _We half-demons gotta look after each other, right?"_

" _Yeah. Who else would?"_

Would they know? Maybe they had heard from someone who knew someone in the—

It was a useless train of thought. They didn't have the kind of connections Makoto had. Rumors spread twisted and with a delay, when it came to the Spirit World. She knew from experience, from all the years she'd had to go on what she heard instead of what she was told from the source.

This was what she'd ben forgetting. This was what had been bothering her all along.

"You go ahead," she said in a monotone.

There was no guarantee that the cannon would be shot, there was no point in alerting all those people, she didn't owe them anything, she did not care…

Or so she had thought.

"What are you saying?" Her mother replied sternly. "Get in the car now."

"Sorry. There is something I must do."

They did not understand. She wanted to leave, but everything was screaming at her to find those guys.

"Don't be stupid, Mako!" Fumiko tried to grab her arm, but Makoto stepped back and closed the door.

"I will catch up later, I promise. Now hurry up and go!"

Her eyes met with her dad's for a brief, heavy moment, and he looked like he had swallowed something nasty when he said in a light tone, "See you later."

Makoto nodded and her dad hit the gas while her mother yelled at him and Fumiko stayed glued to the window with a panicked face.

Makoto did her best not to think about what she had done and began running toward Sarayashiki. As long as she was alone, it was much faster than taking a bus or a taxi. But where to find the other half-demons? Was the bar open at that hour? Would they be there? Was even the bar there anymore? She hadn't set foot in it since the Sensui debacle.

But it was the only lead she had, so she ran as fast as she could, until all the she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeats pounding in her ears and she felt like her lungs were going to collapse anytime.

In less than half an hour, she was stumbling down the bar's stairs and flinging its door open.

 _It'sstillopenthere'speopleinhere—_

"Kodama?" A voice inside the bar said. "The fuck's going on? You okay?"

Makoto would never be sure of how she was able to yell, "Get out of the city!" All she wanted to do was puke her entrails on the ever dirty floor.

Someone ran to keep her upright when she wobbled in an attempt to lean against a blackened wall. "What's gotten into you?"

She managed to look up. It was Kazama, looking pretty shaken himself. She guessed the sight of her in that state was quite alarming for people who'd always seen her being all proper and prim.

"The Spirit World…" She began to say between frantic breaths, "Terrorists… Going to fire a cannon… You need to _leave_."

"What are you on about?"

Makoto straightened up, slowly regaining her strength, and grabbed Kazama by the neck of his t-shirt. "The city's going to blow up. Urameshi's trying to stop it, but _you need to get out._ "

Makoto could sense in her head the thousand silent questions directed at her by the patrons and the bartender, but strangely, no one spoke out loud until Yosuke, who was sitting at a table in the back, got up and yelled, "You heard her, so better move your asses unless you wanna die! When has she ever lied?!"

Makoto watched, astounded, how everybody in the bar began to get up, scrambling for their things, asking how many cars they had.

She had thought it would be much more dificult to convince them.

"How far?" Kazama asked her.

She let him go. "As far as possible. At least fifty kilometers."

"Alright," he said, and taking the keys out of his pocket, he told her, "You're with us."

She was led to a beaten up white car Makoto would have never boarded if her life depended on it only a few hours ago, but urgency made you look at things from a different perspective. She was offered shotgun while five guys squeezed together in the backseat, now firing the questions they hadn't had the gall to ask at the bar.

Makoto was pretty sure they would all die if they crashed at that speed, and she didn't want to know how drunk the driver was.

Well, maybe she could survive, but the others couldn't take as many chances.

"What the fuck are they doing up there?" Someone in the back asked.

Makoto lowered the side window so the car didn't feel so claustrophobic. She thought she saw a blue shooting star flying upwards, and briefly wondered if it had anything to do with what was happening. The sky was clear and brimming with stars, but it was hard to enjoy in the current situation.

"Religious cult kidnapped Koenma and his subordinates. They wanted to kick the demons back home and set up the barrier again. Yuusuke and his friends have got rid of them, but they have a mass destruction weapon that will fire if we are unlucky."

"There are cults in the Spirit World?"

"My thoughts exactly when I heard," she replied.

"And who are those sick fucks?"

"People who worked for King Enma, mostly."

Someone cackled. "And Urameshi kicked their asses?"

Every car occupant except Makoto seemed to think that was absolutely hilarious.

"Do they choose any Spirit Detective right?"

"I knew he was on our side."

"Bastard was always worse than us and turned out to be a demon, what did they expect?"

The atmosphere relaxed significantly when they left Sarayashiki behind, but Kazama kept driving on, towards the countryside, and Makoto gave him instructions on which turns to take to avoid the police.

"Hey," Yosuke said from behind Makoto. She twisted around to look. "Thanks for warning us. I know you don't even live nearby."

She shifted to look at her skirt instead. "It was no trouble."

But they didn't seem to buy it.

"Why did you do it?"

She kept quiet for a moment, pondering what to say, until she shrugged slightly. "We must look after each other."

Kazama laughed in a way that told her he knew exactly what she was referencing. "Yeah."

"Y'know, I thought you were kind of a bitch. Acted like you were better than us," one of the other guys said, "but you're a stand-up gal."

Makoto looked down so her hair hid her face, and she started fidgeting. "I never did anything to earn your sympathies, so—"

"Pfft, everybody's better than us."

"Except Urameshi, remember?"

"Who the hell cares about that?" Another one interrupted, and then leaned forward, prompting Makoto to look back up again and scoot closer to the door. "Now, how did you get so damn strong since the last time we saw you?"

"Seriously," Kazama said. "You almost gave me a heart attack when you busted the door open."

"Training from hell. Do not—" Her cellphone started ringing and the car grew silent when she picked up. It was Kurama. "Any news?"

"Yuusuke deactivated the cannon. We're safe. Are you with your family?"

"They are with Fumi. I had to warn someone else."

Kurama hummed curiously, but didn't ask. He surely would, later. "Tell them they can head back home, then. See you back there?"

"Sure. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Bye."

"Bye," she whispered, and she looked up at her companions with a hardly concealed smile and announced, "Crisis averted!"

The backseat cheered and Kazama hit the gas and the horn in celebration, speeding through the empty road under the gaze of the stars.

—

Her cellphone rang several times the next few days, though the calls weren't from her friends.

Genkai had died on that fateful night that Yuusuke had stayed in the Spirit World to stop the cannon. Through Puu, her spirit had once again fled to support him.

Makoto, with Shizuru's help, arranged the preparations for the funeral, held at the temple by a priest neither of them were sure was very orthodox, but Master Genkai had asked for him, and she was a woman who knew what she wanted.

Makoto had thought it would be a small, private affair, and she was absolutely wrong. The news of Master Genkai's death had spread like lightning, and martial artists, psychics, demons, and friends from all over gathered to pay their last respects to her.

Suzuki, Shishiwakamaru, Chuu, Jin, Touya and Rinku had come back from the Demon World just for the occasion. Koenma and a retinue representing the Spirit World. People that Makoto had only seen at the last tournament turned up too, demons who had never met Genkai but wanted to give their condolences to Yuusuke.

Makoto, who had been going through the motions until then to set up the ceremony and deal with the legal formalities, hadn't been able to dwell on Genkai's actual passing, and she watched the whole affair from a corner of the room where the altar and the casket had been placed, marveled by how many lives Genkai had touched. She had been gruff, and she had spent most of her days in solitude, and she had been so _loved_.

It was an odd feeling, a mix between sadness, and nostalgia, and warmth, and holding back the tears was steadily becoming more difficult.

The visitors were happy, telling stories about her, catching up with people they hadn't seen in a long time. Talking about a Genkai that Makoto hadn't known, but would live on in people's hearts. When she was alive, it had felt to Makoto like she would be eternal, and now she was certain she would be.

Makoto was happy.

She would miss her forever.

Yuusuke, who had appeared accompanied by Hokushin, upon locating Makoto told her, "Reminds me of Raizen's funeral."

She perked up, grateful to have a distraction from her own thoughts. "I guess there must be a lot of people at a king's funeral, too."

"Nah, not that one." He waved her off. He was wearing a fond expression, though Makoto couldn't tell if it was because of what he was recalling, the scene in front of them, or both. "The real one. When his friends came and sat around his tomb, drinking and remembering the old times. Do you think we'll get to have funerals this cool?"

Makoto held back a smile of her own. "I do not know about mine, but yours is going to be massive."

He laughed, but no one looked at him, because he wasn't the only one doing so. Master Genkai wouldn't have wanted so many people at her funeral, but while that had been inevitable, she wouldn't have wanted it to be a somber, solemn ceremony, and they had gotten that part right.

From the corner of her eye, Makoto saw that Amemasu had decided to show up with a bottle gourd in tow. They nodded in Makoto's and Yuusuke's direction and walked up to the altar, set the gourd at its feet, and recited a prayer that wasn't from this world.

"Amazing until the very end," she said.

"Yeah," Yuusuke agreed. "You should've seen me when I was deciding which button to push. She yelled at me all of a sudden and—"

"Urameshi! Mako!"

Kuwabara had arrived too, with along with Yukina, Keiko and Kurama.

Kurama glanced directly at Makoto's face and she gave him a thumbs up and the best smile she could. Surprisingly, it wasn't hard at all to do.

It was hard to find reasons to be sad, in such good company. And, just in case Master Genkai was watching, she didn't want to get scolded in the afterlife for moping around.

—

It took a few weeks, but at last, Genkai's will was opened. As soon as she had it, Makoto spoke to Shizuru and they got in contact with everybody else to meet up at the temple.

Yuusuke, Keiko, Kurama, Kuwabara, Yukina and Botan gathered in the same tatami room where the funeral had been held, and Shizuru read Genkai's last will out loud.

Makoto already knew what it said, and ever since she had read it, she had been wondering how much leaving her in charge of the legal procedures had been a necessity, and how much it had been intentional. Makoto would have bet on the second.

Master Genkai had left them all one wonderful last present: the temple and its grounds, which stretched as far as the eye could see.

She wanted the mountains surrounding the temple to be kept as they were so demons could live freely in them, away from humans if they so desired. It was a sort of generosity that was so unexpected coming from that woman, and at the same time, so like her.

So, when they stepped out of the temple so the others could take in what she had entrusted to them, Makoto had one thing to say, a decision she had already taken and explained to her parents. She just needed permission from her friends.

"I would like to move here to take care of the temple," she announced, prompting several surprised reactions. "I will be free after the school year is over, so if you do not mind…"

She had taken them by surprise, but it didn't seem like they were going to refuse.

"Will you be okay?" Kurama asked. "You're hours away from the nearest city."

"It will be fine. I will not be alone."

"I guess Puu's here now…" Keiko chimed in.

Makoto thought there was a hint of sadness in the way Kurama looked at her, but, as it was always the case with him, it was hard to tell.

"A grumpy witch living in the middle of the mountains." Yuusuke said. "Yeah, following in the old hag's footsteps suits you."

Makoto glared at Yuusuke.

"You've got to admit that you have the bitter part down pat," he insisted.

"I will have to work on my sass just for you."

A demure laugh escaped Yukina. "You'll be okay," she said. "It's a good place to be. It feels a bit like ho…" She trailed off mid-word, as if she had thought better about what she was about to say, and glanced sideways at Kuwabara before telling Makoto, "You know what I mean."

"We'll come visit often, right, Yukina?" Kuwabara offered, enthusiastic. "If you don't want to go full hermit, that is."

"You will be welcome anytime," Makoto replied, looking downwards. "This is yours as well."

"It wouldn't be fair to leave to you all the maintenance work," Keiko said. "We'll help."

"Yeah!" Botan nodded furiously. "And with all the new people showing up, I'm sure the Spirit World will be in contact with you. We'll see you often!"

"But you better not forget about coming down to the city every now and then," Shizuru said as she lit a cigarette. "I'll never hear the end of it if you go missing for long."

"I suppose I cannot lure Fumiko often as long as there is not a shopping mall around."

"She's a civilized lady, after all."

Kuwabara made a face when the name was mentioned. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you were dating."

"That is _my_ line," Makoto replied, arms crossed, looking back and forth from Kuwabara to Yukina.

"Not my fault you aren't the sharpest tool in the shed, baby bro," Shizuru replied with a puff of smoke. "Anyway, shall we move along? There's a lot to see."

The walk brought them to a beach. Yukina ran off with Keiko to the shore to watch the ocean up close, and Shizuru suggested they find a hostel to stay the night. Eventually, they sat down, and Keiko asked Yuusuke what he talked about with Genkai when he had to deactivate the cannon in the Spirit World. All of a sudden, he walked away with a huff when she said she was sure he pressed the red button.

Kuwabara looked at Kurama with a shit-eating grin, which was met by a knowing smile and a very confused Keiko. Makoto wondered what was going on, because Yuusuke had told her about that moment and he hadn't said anything compromising.

"This is a secret," Kuwabara mock-whispered. "Urameshi will kill us if he finds out. He thinks telling us in a moment of euphoria was the biggest mistake of his life."

That got him everybody's full attention.

"Yuusuke pushed the blue button. It's your favorite color, isn't it, Yukimura?" Keiko was shocked as Kuwabara's impossible grin got even bigger, and he delivered the punchline right away. "He said that if those guys had a god, what he had was a goddess."

There was a beat of silence while Kuwabara's words sank in, and at the same moment Keiko began to turn bright red, everybody cracked up laughing with a collective, " _That's so corny!_ "

Makoto, holding her stomach and blinking back tears of laughter, saw Keiko take off her sandals, run after Yuusuke, and tackle him from behind and into the water.

Before it was too late, Makoto reached inside her bag for a compact camera and took a snap of the surfacing pair, their shadowy silhouettes contrasting starkly against the setting sun.

"We're staying," Shizuru declared.

—

Makoto suspected that what made the luggage so heavy were her feelings, rather than the weight of her personal possessions.

Master Genkai's temple had always been a temporary refuge. Knowing that she was entering the place with no intentions to leave it brought up contradictory sensations inside of her.

Every step was like a burden left behind.

A reaffirmation of her choices.

Every step a new tomorrow.

How many steps had she taken to bring her there?

 _One,_

 _Two,_

 _Three._

She let the suitcases down on the floor and lamented internally the absence of escalators. She'd surely grow into a tougher woman living in the temple.

To her side, her companion did the same, and the rest of her luggage was rested on the ground with a soft thud.

"Here we are," Kurama said.

"Indeed."

"There's something about this place… I can't put my finger on it, but…"

"I know," Makoto replied. "That is why I want to stay."

"I understand." He paused. "Though, to be honest, I was hoping you'd rethink the decision to move here."

They surveyed the courtyard. It was empty, but the vicinity was not.

"Maybe I will," she said, though she doubted she would, and so did Kurama. "Are you sure you do not want to stay any longer?"

"I'm sorry, but duty calls me. You know how my schedule—"

"The infamous salaryman life," she said with a hint of humor.

"Salaryman life, indeed."

If Makoto didn't know better, she'd have thought they were staring at the courtyard to avoid staring at each other, but that would have been silly, right?

Right.

"Thank you for taking the morning off to accompany me. I sincerely appreciate it."

He chuckled. "I couldn't very well leave you alone on this final trip, could I?"

Cocking her head to the side, she said, "You did save my parents from taking one of these up the stairs this weekend."

"You know me, always working for the good of people."

"You and your community service."

Kurama smiled, and they fell into a companionable silence. Sometimes sounds came from inside the temple and from the forest, signaling the presence of visitors going about their daily lives.

They didn't move from the spot, possibly because neither wanted to say goodbye, or so Makoto hoped. She knew it was her case, at least.

Makoto took in a deep breath and released it slowly, hoping to exhale away the doubts and the nervousness.

She felt like this was something she had to do, like the pull she'd always fell towards the temple grounds was a signal that she had found her place to stay. And as firm as her resolve was, she felt a bit lonely to be so far from her people, and a bit anxious to start anew.

Maybe it was showing on her face, because Kurama seemed to sense her hesitation, and began to ask, concerned, "Makoto, are you—?"

"Will you," she cut him off before he could ask any questions, partly because she didn't want to question herself any longer, partly because she was afraid she wouldn't have the courage to ask otherwise, "visit me?"

A simple question and so much willpower exerted to say it aloud.

The worry didn't completely vanish from Kurama's expression, but left room for an honest smile.

"Anytime? Will you let me in if I show up unannounced?"

"With all these people staying, it would be hypocritical of me to let you out in the cold," she said, looking at the temple instead of him, happy to have her hands still occupied with the handles of the suitcases. "Though I cannot promise a room of your own."

He replied, unfazed, "In that case, I'll visit as often as I can."

Makoto looked at his dark grey suit, ironed and ready for a day's work at the office, as if he hadn't just climbed a thousand stone steps with a suitcase on each hand, and at her faded jeans, her mountain boots, and her favorite yellow hoodie. She remembered how she had assumed, at first, that she was the only respite he had from his human cover and that was why he spoke to her. But now, with all the people they had met, for the life of her, Makoto couldn't understand why he was still her friend.

It had been three years and a whole new life.

"Go," she said, trying to sound kind and likely failing, but she knew Kurama would catch onto it anyway. "You will miss your train if you linger."

Kurama took a deep breath, as she had done just a moment before.

Makoto didn't expect it when he patted her head and let his hand rest on it a little longer than necessary, something that surprised her and gave her the smallest bit of a hope that she didn't think she'd ever have.

"Take care," he said, hiding his hands in his pockets and offering his best smile, the one reserved for the people who knew him best.

"As always," she replied.

A single insignificant, eternal second later, Kurama turned around and began to descend the stairs of the temple.

"See you soon?" Makoto asked when he had barely reached the third step, just to make sure, just to steal another fraction of a moment with him and keep it for her alone.

He looked over his shoulder, and she thought there was a glint in his eyes when he replied, "Count on it."

Makoto watched him from the top of the stairs until he was gone, and quite easily, rolled her suitcases to her room and headed outside again. Just one thing left to do.

She made her way through the forest until she reached the lake. She held her arm in front of her, pointed at the surface with her index finger, and watched the youki flow from her body to concentrate at the fingertip.

 _One, two, three._

An intentionally low-powered reigan shot from her finger and skipped on the surface of the water like a flat stone.

It was so awfully easy to do, now that she knew how to, that it was difficult to remember why she had once thought it so impossible.

The bubbles from the bottom of the lake surfaced automatically, and right after Amemasu appeared, giant char at first, humanoid as they reached the shore.

"Are you having fun?"

"I learned to knock!" Makoto replied, unable to hold back a smile and a laugh that she hid behind a hand. "I always wanted to do that." And she pointed at Amemasu. "Bang!"

"Watch where you aim that," Amemasu sighed, swatting away Makoto's hand, but their content expression betrayed the dry tone. "And welcome back."

"Thanks," she said, and she sat down on the shore. "I wonder what they would say if they could see me now."

There was no need to say who she was talking about. Amemasu wouldn't have dignified her question with an answer, if it had been about anyone else.

"Don't get used to me saying this, but knowing them, I think they'd be pleased."

"Really? That is a relief."

Makoto closed her eyes and sensed Amemasu sit by her side, saying that Nana used to knock on her door like that too and that Genkai came to greet them every morning. Feeling the touch of the living, breathing grass under her fingers, _almost_ but not quite as if Kurama was around, and the wisps of energy puffing from the earth in a silent welcome, her last doubts vanished, and she knew that, whatever came, she wouldn't regret the path she had chosen.

* * *

This is it. One year and four months later, the main story is over.

First of all, I want to say sorry if I disappointed anybody with the lack of romance. It was never meant to be the point of the story, and as I wrote, something that stood out continuously to me was that Makoto was very young, and I think this is something Kurama would be very aware of, as well. Getting them together wouldn't have felt right to me. _But!_ I have ideas for the future, so you'll see more of this if I get to write them. As of the end of Anomaly, though, whatever happens is open to your interpretation. I certainly won't come to ruin your fun if you tell me you ship Makoto with Kurama, Yuusuke, the fish in the lake, Yukina or they're all your OT5. Whatever makes you happy, my dearest readers.

This is the first time I finish a long fic, and, quite frankly, I feel like I'm saying goodbye to my grown-up child. This story and Makoto have been with me every day for over a year, and it's difficult to let go. I'll probably be moping for a while, and then jump back into the fray.

As I have mentioned before, I have ideas for Anomaly sequels, a short one which would star a different OC, and a long one that would jump between characters, Makoto being one of them. The problem is that the short one ties into the longer one, and the longer one has the potential to be so massive that I'm afraid I'd never finish it.

While I try to sort this out, though, I have other plans: extra Anomaly chapters about bits that didn't fit into the main plot, such as how Makoto and Fumiko became friends, focusing more on my One Piece fic, and a Hunter x Hunter idea that I want to try my hand at.

As always, if you want to know what I'm up to, you can find me at **_tackyink dot tumblr dot com_**. You can also copy and paste the url on my profile, if this site hasn't succeeded in eating it again.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading until here, for all the words of encouragement I've received, and for giving Makoto a chance. If it weren't for you, this story would have died in its first chapter. You've given me an invaluable present.

I love you all. See you later!


	24. FB1: The Witch, the Hero, and the Cat

Oh, dear. Has it really been six months? I did not mean for this to go unupdated for so long, but life caught up. I also became a pile of weepy mush after sending the last chapter out into the world because I missed this story like nobody's business.

I want to thank you once again for your support and for all the lovely comments you sent after the last chapter. I know some of you liked the romance was up in the air at the end, and that some of you were disappointed to not see anything confirmed. As of the end of Anomaly, I wanted to leave it like that so you could interpret it the way you preferred. However, I have plans for the future, and hopefully I'll get to share them with you in due time.

For now, though, here's the look into the past I promised a long time ago, the story of how Mako and Fumi became friends. This was originally going to be from Fumi's point of view, but Mako took over. There's still a small section through her eyes.

Onto more fic-related news: I'm already in the process of writing the sequel to Anomaly, but I intend to keep posting extra chapters here all the same. I'm also editing Anomaly chapters to fix mistakes and change up a few details, so if you notice something different, that's why. The HxH project I mentioned is still under construction because the characters are a pain to write and we still haven't found common ground for cooperation, and meanwhile I've been working on a Boku no Hero Academia OC fic that will likely see the light of the day before those two. And, as always, the One Piece fic is still ongoing. It never ends.

 **And now, a warning: There's gorey imagery, and child and animal abuse in this chapter.** If you are curious about what happens but aren't okay with reading it, contact me through here or tumblr and I'll write you a short summary of what happens. If you want to skip it entirely, don't worry, you aren't missing anything relevant for the future.

Thank you so much for your patience, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 **Flashback #1: The Witch, the Hero, and the Cat**

Ghost.

Witch.

Monster.

Makoto knew what the other kids at school said about her. She heard them talk on the hallways, during recess, after class, when she was hurrying home to not have to endure the looks and kids 'accidentally' bumping into her.

They thought she was creepy. She thought they were dumb.

Makoto didn't have any friends at school, and she didn't need them.

She had tried to get along with them, a long time ago, as much as a neglected child who had never been around any others could.

Makoto didn't speak much, because she had never shaken off the feeling that people liked her better when she was quiet, more easily overlooked. But she spoke out when she thought she could help.

 _Careful with those swings, you're going to fall._

 _The teacher's going to see you and get angry if you do that._

 _You should bring your dog to the vet, he's getting sick._

She thought she was doing something good, but the more times she was right, the more everybody started to avoid her. Makoto noticed how even her homeroom teacher found her unnerving, how her smile became tighter when she met her eyes. But Makoto could see she tried not to let it show, and she appreciated it. She was trying to be nice to a monster. She liked her.

However, she did not feel the same towards her schoolmates. And the worst of them was one two years older, who lived next to her.

Her name was Fumiko, and she was loud and obnoxious. Even when she was silent, she just _could not_ be quiet.

Makoto had frequent headaches at school. Doctors chalked it up to very sensitive ears, which, granted, she did have. But they weren't the issue. Kids were always brimming with energy, always excited, always shouting into her mind with no way for her to shut them out. And it was like that Fumiko had a megaphone and was unable to shut up.

It was so bad that Makoto sometimes sensed her from her own home. She couldn't stand it. She did not like the other kids, and she didn't need to have one of them permanently invading her head.

Years later, Makoto would reflect on which incident had set in motion the wheel that would take her to her current circumstances.

But that was still too far away, too dependent on people she had no relationship to, and who made a sport out of avoiding Fate, so she couldn't make the link.

Makoto was six years old when, one day after school, she decided to take a detour before heading home, because, while she may not have needed friends, she didn't mind having company.

She wanted to check out the place beforehand, just to make sure she had it right. It wasn't the right time yet, because it would be raining when it happened.

Makoto was going to have a friend soon, and they were going to meet at a building site, in the old part of the neighborhood. It wasn't as nice as the area where she lived, and Makoto's parents never let her go there, so some reconnaissance was in order.

She was a street away from her destination when she already knew the place would be occupied by Fumiko and her goons, and an eerie feeling took a hold of her.

Other kids liked Fumiko. Or, better put, respected her. Makoto wasn't sure how much of it was actual fondness and how much being intimidated by her presence. But whatever it was, she was admired, and she had friends.

Makoto knew better than to get too close to them. She hid behind a nearby corner and took a look at the place. Concrete tubes were piled on top of each other, and she was fairly sure that that was where she'd have to look.

That was all she needed to know.

She was about to walk away when one of the kids, one who had a nose that reminded Makoto of a pig, saw her and alerted everybody else of her presence.

"It's the witch!"

Makoto didn't say anything, but the kids didn't need help to keep the conversation rolling.

"She's cursing us!"

"Doesn't she live next to you, Fumi?"

"That's scary!"

Makoto, thought, didn't register their chatter, because she had been struck by something when the first kid spoke. And it was dark, _too dark, and he didn't know where he was or what was happening, but he was terrified, mom, dad, where are—_

"Say something, witch!"

Makoto snapped out of it when the kid yelled at her, and she was breathing heavily and leaning against the corner to keep upright.

"You shouldn't be here," she managed to say.

Fumiko stepped in front of her friends, but there was still a fair distance between them. That was good. Her words pounded on Makoto's mind like a hammer. "So what? Are you going to tell a teacher?"

"He shouldn't be here," she clarified. "It's dangerous."

"Yeah, sure," Fumiko replied. "What's your problem?"

Her problem was _them_ , invading her thoughts, invading the place where she had to meet her friend, hurling abuse at her just because they didn't understand.

Makoto wasn't going to reply, but she wasn't given a chance either before one of the kids behind Fumiko threw a small rock at her.

She didn't try to dodge it. It hit her on the face, and she winced, but it didn't hurt at all, and she watched it rebound to the ground.

Fumiko turned around to say something to the other kids, but Makoto ran away before she could hear what she was about to say.

 _Stupid_ , all of them.

—

 _An an an – tottemo daisuki – Doraemon_

The theme song filled the living room as Makoto watched TV lying on her stomach, under the kotatsu.

Makoto wasn't paying much attention, rather, she was getting lulled into sleep when someone entered the room and sat next to her, putting something on the table.

She didn't need to look to know it was Nana. Makoto could pick her out of a crowd in instants. While everybody else went about their lives shrouded in a meek, dull energy that seemed to be apologizing for existing, Nana's shone like a beacon. A safe place to return to.

"You look tired. Are you feeling well?"

She closed her eyes. "I'm nervous."

"Why?"

"I have to do something."

"Soon?" There was no trace of judgement in the question. Nana was the only person who really got Makoto and didn't think she was strange.

"Next time it rains."

Makoto opened her eyes, drowsily, to look up at the TV. Nobita was getting in trouble. She didn't like him, because it reminded her of the kids at school. It was so easy to avoid trouble if you listened. But she liked Doraemon, because he had solutions for everything. Makoto thought that Nobita didn't deserve him. She wanted a Doraemon, too.

"Nana," Makoto said. She hadn't meant to tell her more, but it seemed like a good idea. "Something bad is going to happen to someone I saw."

"A friend?"

Makoto shook her head.

"Did you tell them?"

She mumbled her reply. Nana sighed quietly.

"You can't help everybody, Mako."

Makoto got choked up, and she buried her head between her arms. "I could if they listened."

"They don't understand."

"They don't have to. They just… I just…"

Makoto felt a hand patting her head while she tried to hold back tears of frustration.

"I know it's hard."

Because of course she knew. She was the only one who understood.

Makoto just stayed with her face hidden until her mom stepped into the living room, speaking with urgency.

"Mom, have you seen— Oh, Mako, there you are."

Makoto wiped her tears against her sleeves and rolled onto her back to look at her.

"I want you to head straight home after school, okay? Don't go off alone anywhere, even if it's near home."

That could be a problem.

"Okay," she said.

She could always pretend she had met her friend somewhere else.

"Is something wrong?" Nana asked.

"I was talking outside with Mrs. Yoshino, and she says they still haven't found the kid that disappeared last week. Just in case…"

"Of course," Nana said, nodding. "Mako doesn't have any reason to linger after school anyway, right?"

Makoto knew Nana knew what she was thinking. If she didn't warn her later, she could only assume that this was complicity. Probably. She wouldn't like Mako to be alone on the street either, would she? But Nana trusted her judgement, and Mako knew something good was coming out of what she had to do. It was necessary.

"I won't go anywhere," Makoto said, blandly.

"You better," her mom replied. "I'll get really angry if I find out. Are we clear?"

Makoto wasn't afraid of angering her mom, because she knew what true anger felt like, and she never got truly angry at her. But she didn't want to worry or disappoint her.

"It's okay, mom."

She thought it was unfair that she was getting scolded before the fact. She was still innocent.

Not for long, though.

Nana smiled when Makoto's mother left the room, and she rolled back onto her stomach to keep watching the TV.

Doraemon was saving the day again, and it made Makoto smile, too.

—

One, two, three days later, Makoto woke up to the pitter-patter of the rain against her window.

School hours felt eternal as she waited to be freed in the afternoon, and when the bell finally rang, she knew she had to be quick, or she'd get an earful for dallying after hours. She had heard the teachers talking about a kid missing school for a few days, and she guessed it was the one she had tried to warn.

She had done what she could. And even if Nana was right and she couldn't save everybody, the was someone who needed her now.

She pulled up the hood of her yellow raincoat, opened her plastic umbrella, and ran to the abandoned construction site.

Makoto's heartbeat picked up with anticipation, and the eerie feeling came back. Even though she knew it would go well, she was afraid of messing up. Of him running away, or getting hurt because of her.

Her rain boots sank in the mud as she approached the concrete tubes. There weren't any kids around, as the bad weather had driven them straight home.

Makoto couldn't have seen him if she didn't already know what she was looking for. But she had seen this moment many, many times, so at that moment she was only going through the motions, reliving the scene from another perspective.

She looked into the uppermost tube and said, "Hello."

A pair of blindingly yellow eyes opened and surveilled her from within the shadows.

"My name's Makoto."

A black kitten, dirty, wet, and wounded, curled into a ball, listened to Makoto like he could understand her.

Makoto knew he did, in a way. He was wary, and scared, but also hurting and hopeful, and that was what made him not want to run.

Hearing through his ears, Makoto knew that her voice, quiet and raspy even as a kid, soothed him, rather than spook him, so she kept talking.

"You're too small to get into fights. But don't worry, you don't have to be alone anymore."

The cat was immobile; his full attention on every single one of her movements, and Makoto feared he would change his mind and flee. But she couldn't allow that, because this was the only chance she had.

"My first mom abandoned me too," Makoto said with as much emotion as if she were recounting a grocery run, but nonetheless trying to sound kind. "But thanks to that I got my real mom and dad, and Nana. They will take care of you too."

The cat uncurled and, in the silence that followed, advanced tentatively towards the edge of the tube.

Makoto stepped back, put down her umbrella to take off her raincoat, and got closer to the cat again.

"I've been waiting for you forever." She held the raincoat inside out where the tube ended so that the cat, who wasn't blinking as he watched her move, could climb onto it. She figured it would be more comfortable than holding him with her wet arms. "Let's go home together."

The cat stood up with trembling legs and walked directly onto the yellow plastic.

Makoto tried to wrap him and accommodate it as well as she could with an arm, and hugged him against her chest to pick her umbrella back up. He didn't try to resist. Now that she could inspect him from up close, Makoto saw that the animal's wounds were still fresh, and he needed a veterinarian fast. He had a mangled ear, and his fluffy tail was broken and limp, with the bone showing through the injury.

She turned around to hurry home and call for help, and then the wave of anger hit her before the actual words that came afterwards, so hard that they made her wobble a little.

"What did you do to that cat!?"

It was the girl next door. Makoto didn't know what she was doing there, so she assumed she must have followed her.

"Let it go! It's bleeding!" Fumiko yelled.

"Shut up," Makoto hissed, hiding the cat from view with the raincoat. "You're scaring him."

"You witch! You hurt it!"

The girl ran towards her and tried to push her, but Makoto stepped out of her way lazily, shielding the cat with her body and umbrella. Its fur stood up and its healthy ear lay flat. Makoto hadn't dealt with cats before, but the feeling of aggression coming from him was unmistakable.

"Leave us alone," Makoto said, throwing a sharp glare at the girl, who immediately opened her mouth to say something, but Makoto didn't wait to hear her and ran towards home, and when Makoto ran, no one except Nana had a chance to catch her.

She was sure she'd hear her booming through the walls of her house and into her head, later that day, but Makoto had a mission, and she wasn't going to lose her friend to that girl.

When she got home with the wounded cat, Makoto only had to say that they needed help to get rushed by her mom out the door and to the nearest animal clinic.

Nana accompanied them, and braided Makoto's wet hair and pinned it up to get it out of the way while they passed time in the waiting room.

They left the clinic by evening, and though her mother offered to carry the cat several times, the animal refused, and the only way he was at ease was curled up between Makoto's small arms.

—

Makoto had realized when she was very little that she heard better than adults expected. She heard hushed conversations that weren't meant for her, precisely because many times they were about her, and she found out that adults worried a lot, all the time, about things that she didn't think twice about.

When the cat became part of the family, she noticed that they paid even less attention to her if it looked like she was playing with him. It was then, less than a week after she had met her cat – who, despite the constant encouragement of her parents stayed nameless because it was her cat, and since there was no other he didn't need a name – that she heard her mother talk with a neighbor while she played on the backyard.

"—kid disappeared the other day. How many already?"

"It's the third in as many months. They're saying he kept playing in the abandoned construction sites with schoolmates."

Makoto's mother shook her head. "Kids shouldn't be hanging in those parts of town."

"Be careful with Mako. I always see her come and go from school alone…"

"I told her to always go straight home, and she's obedient as they come."

"Doesn't she have any friends to go with her?"

Makoto unplugged herself from that conversation. She didn't want to walk with any classmates, and she was sure the sentiment was mutual. They didn't get her. She didn't want to get them. She was content that way.

—

Fumiko, who normally didn't need reasons to act rebellious, had been so shaken by the disappearance of her classmate that she refused to listen to any adults. They were useless. They just gave orders, and yelled, and tried to make her do things because they said so, and then they weren't even able to take care of them.

If they were just going to sit and do nothing until her friend appeared, she'd take matters into her own hands.

She knew Taro had to be in the old haunted house near the construction sites. He had wanted to go to find ghosts, and if the ghosts had taken him the adults would do nothing, because they wouldn't believe they were the culprits.

Fumiko knew that there had to be ghosts around, because she had seen the creepy girl with the black cat nearby, and why else would a witch go there so often?

She'd sneak out of her house that night and rescue him.

—

Makoto went home from school extra fast so her mother didn't get any ideas and get her a companion. Aside from another warning to not dally alone, no more comments were made about the subject, and Makoto was happy for a few days.

Until that night.

There was a feeling of unease that she couldn't shake off, and she was so distracted by it that she argued with her parents when she refused to eat because she couldn't stomach her dinner.

The cat, who was able to move quite nimbly despite his injuries and that he sometimes lost her balance because of the missing tail, was nervous too, and hissed at everybody that went near him. He seemed to be angry even at Makoto.

Something was going to happen. She sat on her bed with a Rubik cube she couldn't make head or tails of and fiddled nervously with it until, all of a sudden, the cat jumped from the floor to the windowsill and started pawing frantically at the glass.

Makoto ran to the window right away and when she looked down, she saw the neighbor girl walking down the street and throwing glances back, as if trying to make sure she wasn't followed.

She also saw black, and a lump on the floor, and she smelled something putrid and most of all, felt a deep, chilling fear that wasn't hers.

She closed the curtain, intent on ignoring it, but the cat kept pawing, and started to meow, and when Makoto tried to remove him from the windowsill he scratched her arm.

"Fine," she said, only because it was her cat who was asking, because she couldn't care less about the other girl. She then turned off the lights of her room so it looked like she was asleep, opened the window, and jumped. The cat looked at her from above intently, and his eyes were like car headlights in the dark street.

Makoto followed Fumiko like a shadow with the sort of reassurance that only came when one knew she was the most dangerous thing prowling the street at the moment.

Makoto was small, but she was already powerful, and as time passed, the more aware she was of everything about her, the faster she became, the stronger she felt. Not that any regular human could tell, but whoever tried to touch her would be in for a surprise.

She stalked the girl for fifteen minutes to the place where she had found the cat. Makoto scrunched up her nose, upon remembering the last time they had run into each other. But Fumiko didn't go into the construction site. Instead, she walked farther to the side, to a block where a derelict two story house with boarded up windows and doors stood. According to the grown-ups, many of the houses around had been abandoned since before Makoto was born, and that was why there was so much construction work being done in those parts.

Makoto looked at the house, and it wasn't empty anymore.

From the distance, Makoto could already tell that there was a person dwelling inside, and the urge to get away from the house grew stronger the more Fumiko walked towards it. The eerie feeling returned, and only then she realized that she hadn't felt it because she had been nervous about the other kids or the cat.

No, no, no, they had to turn back, or something horrible would happen.

"Stop!" Makoto cried out, scaring the daylights out of Fumiko.

The girl's face was flushed to the tips of her ears, like she had been caught elbow deep stealing cookies from a jar, but that didn't prevent her from going on the offensive.

"It was you! I knew it!" She yelled, and Makoto's head throbbed not because of the volume, but the unbridled emotions swirling inside Fumiko and lashing out. "You took him!"

Anger, anxiety, and most of all, fear, a fear that permeated everything, and a fire that made her push against it to act.

"Took who?" Makoto asked, even though she could guess exactly who.

"Taro!"

"I don't know him." Not by name, certainly.

"Liar! You knew something was going to happen to him! Where is he?!"

"I don't know."

"Give him back, witch!"

Fumiko ran to shove Makoto, and since this time Makoto wasn't carrying an injured animal, she didn't feel the need to move aside.

The girl kept pushing and pushing, but Makoto didn't move an inch as she stared at Fumiko losing it.

Sobbing and with her face streaked by tears, she stopped the assault to grab Makoto by her jumper with both hands. "What did you do to him, you, you – _monster!_ "

As always, the insult made Makoto a little sad, but it didn't show.

"I came to warn you," she said, ignoring the questions like she should have ignored her cat, and then she wouldn't be out there in the cold being harassed by a kid she didn't like. "There's someone inside the house. If you go in, something bad will happen."

"How do you know?"

Makoto's lips parted, but she decided against replying and shut her mouth.

"You're a liar!" Fumiko yelled again. The physical contact was making Makoto's headache worse. "He threw a rock at you and you did something to him and he's in there, and you don't want me to find him!"

"How do you know?" Makoto asked without any intonation. It was hard enough to keep her thoughts straight with the emotional overload.

"Huh?"

"How do you know that I did that?"

"I—I… I don't know! I don't have to listen to you! You're just like everyone else, always telling me what to do!" And with one last shove, one that caught Makoto off-guard and actually made her stumble a step back, and Fumiko ran deeper into the property.

Makoto fought an internal battle about what to do. She felt sick and wanted to go home, but something was going to happen if she did, she just knew it. Her place was there that night, going after her stupid neighbor.

Making her way around the house and onto the backyard, she found a window with a loose board. It left enough space for a child to slip through, and Makoto fit easily through it. The wood was dusty and humid at the touch.

The smell hit Makoto as soon as she was fully inside. It was concealed beneath layers of humidity and mold, but it was there, coming from somewhere above. Something primal awoke inside Makoto. She was more alert than she had been in her short life, and she expected that someone would jump her from the shadows at any given moment.

Fumiko was nowhere to be seen, but the sound of her steps told Makoto that she was heading upstairs. She followed, the unkempt floorboards moaning under her tiny feet in a foreboding manner. Her parents didn't let her watch horror movies, not yet, but she knew this was the sort of stuff that happened in scary fairytales. The other girl should have known better, too. Because if Makoto was a monster, and she was inoffensive, it stood to reason that something worse would be lurking in the house.

On the second floor, it was easy to locate her – there was a shriek, and Fumiko stumbled backwards from a bedroom's door onto the hallway.

The stench was unmistakable now, even for human senses.

It smelled of death.

Makoto ran to Fumiko's side, who sat petrified on the floor staring, at something inside the room with wide eyes. She had gone pale and seemed to be trying to crawl backwards, but her body wasn't obeying her.

The presence Makoto had felt from the outside was in the bedroom. It was human, no doubt about it, and Makoto looked in the same direction as Fumiko, and the voices hit her and _inside there was—_

— _limbs and congealed blood and vacant eyes, rotting, hand wrapping around his arm and dragging, pinning, it hurt, please, no, I want my mom, I don't want to be here, mom help me, don't, let me go let me go I'm scared momnopleasenoIdon'twantodie._

Makoto dry heaved and took a step back on instinct, still too far gone from the vision to focus on reality, and she tripped and landed in front of Fumiko. Looking at the floor, she saw she had bumped into the decaying carcass of a cat, and this time she vomited.

She could only see the dead animal, a kitten, black as a starless night, like the cat she had rescued.

Makoto didn't react fast enough to the presence that approached them, and in one instant, she looked up, and she was able to make out the figure of a man right before he grabbed her arm.

All the tension, all the fright and nerves and restrained energy she had been holding in surged outward and hit the man with explosive force, chipping the walls and furniture in front of the kids.

The man had lost his consciousness and maybe more by the time he hit the floor. Blood quickly started to pool around him, but Makoto couldn't look up.

A timid voice reached Makoto's ears but, not her. "W-what did you do?"

Makoto kept shaking and retching.

She felt dizzy, like her young brain was desperately trying not to put together the pieces of what she had just seen and done, because reality could not be this terrifying. She was dreaming. This was just a bad dream, and the thing under her hand wasn't fresh blood and she wasn't surrounded by old and new corpses.

Someone touched her arm hesitantly, and when she didn't react, tugged on her sleeve.

The voice was insistent. "Is he…?"

Makoto's field of vision was a tunnel and she kept panting like she'd been held underwater for minutes. But the person with her didn't relent and tugged on her sleeve.

"Come on, move, we've gotta go!"

Someone touched her hand.

Oh, now she knew who this was. Fumiko. But the usually loud and annoying energy that she gave off was comforting and familiar in comparison to what she had felt when the man grabbed her. Even after he had let go, Makoto could still feel the suffering lingering in the house like it was about to be inflicted on her.

Thanks to Fumiko's grounding touch, Makoto was able to calm down enough to stand on her feet, and she let the other girl lead her out as fast as she could.

They ran out of the property and away from the block, still hand in hand, and when they were near their homes and stopped, Makoto noticed the girl's hand was shaking in hers.

She also sensed someone waiting for her outside her house.

Nana. They needed Nana. She would know what to do.

Fumiko hugged her. Fear, anger, and a gratefulness that made everything else unimportant filled Makoto.

"You saved me." Fumiko said, and she was crying when she let go, but she still looked so strong, and she had refused to leave without Makoto when every fiber of her being had been telling her to escape. "What was that? Are you really a witch?"

Makoto was overwhelmed, and she was having trouble telling apart her feelings from Fumiko's. "No."

She remembered her old mom calling her a monster, and thought she must have known that she'd do something like that. Had she really killed a man?

"Makoto," a soft voice called.

Nana looked imposing with her silver hair shining under the streetlights, strides unfaltering even when she saw both girls in their state, dirty, bloodied and scared. Just like Makoto, she hadn't needed to be called to know where she had to be.

Fumiko got closer to Makoto, but Makoto knew they had nothing to fear anymore, and relief washed over her when Nana put her hands on each girl's shoulder.

That was it. They were safe.

"What happened?" Nana asked.

And, like magic, and perhaps it was, the knot in Makoto's throat came undone and she started telling her grandmother everything that had happened.

Nana helped them clean up and sent them to bed, and the next day, when Makoto left home to go to school like nothing had happened, she had someone to accompany her.

And while Makoto didn't need friends but she didn't mind having company.

—

Fumiko began to spend time with Makoto, and Makoto's parents were as delighted to have her over as Fumiko was glad to have a reason to not be home with her parents.

One afternoon, while they were watching TV and the cat dared show up in the living room, Fumiko became indignant when she learned that he didn't have a name.

Makoto didn't get what the fuss was about, because she had known him for many years and a name wasn't necessary, but when Fumiko suggested Doraemon, because he had a missing tail and ear, Makoto didn't feel inclined to refuse.

It fit.

It also excited her more than she cared to admit to have a Doraemon to herself.

—

Makoto knew that Nana notified the police anonymously about suspicious movements in the abandoned house, and she heard the adults' whispers about what had been found in there for weeks, until the subject became buried in favor of something newer and less disturbing.

But Nana also did something else.

The weekend following the incident, she took Makoto on an excursion to the mountains, and gave her a piggyback ride up a stone staircase that seemed to stretch into infinity. But near the top, she let Makoto down, and Makoto walked up the last steps herself and saw that someone was waiting for them.

Her mouth opened in wonder at what she felt.

The trees, the stones, the air, it was like everything was alive and greeting her, and she had never experienced anything like it.

"So this is your granddaughter?" The person said. She was a short woman with faded pink hair, and Makoto thought she must have been around her grandmother's age.

"It's about time I introduced you, I think," Nana replied with a smile.

"Are you sure you want to leave her in my hands? You could do this, too."

"You've always been a better teacher, and she'll need the best."

"Flattery won't make me go easier on her."

Nana laughed. Makoto wasn't sure what to make of the situation, but if Nana was at ease, it meant that woman was a good person.

"I am Master Genkai," the woman introduced herself to Makoto. "Tell me, what's your name?"

Makoto thought the title sounded a little intimidating, and then, when she focused on Master Genkai instead of their surroundings, noticed that she had a lot of reiki. More than Nana. Far more than her. Her aura was crisp and polished, vibrant, and Makoto felt the immediate need to impress her.

"Makoto Kodama," she replied.

"Very well, Makoto," Master Genkai said, and let a smile form on her face. "From now on, you will learn how to control your power."

Makoto gave a questioning glance at Nana, and when the only thing she got back was a reassuring nod, Makoto nodded too and said, "Yes, Master Genkai."

Genkai's smile went from gentle to amused. "So well mannered."

And Nana laughed again. "I don't know who she takes after."

But Makoto didn't mind that they were making fun of her. She felt like she belonged in that place, and she was ready to take anything they threw at her.

She knew better than anyone that things would always work out for the best.


	25. FF1: Shizune

Last time we got a glimpse of the past, so let's take now a jump into the near future, with a 22 year-old Makoto.

I don't know what you'll think of this chapter, and I'm quite nervous as I upload it. But, as with the last one, you can ignore it if you so choose, though some things will carry over to the famous sequel in the works that who knows if it'll ever be publishable. I think some of you will like this one, though. Let me know what you think!

* * *

 **Flash forward #1: Shizune**

Three years before, in a worrying display of youthful naiveté, Makoto had decided to live in the mountains in search of peace, inner or otherwise.

She would have thought it wasn't much to ask for, but it became apparent quite early that it was.

Even before Makoto had moved to Master Genkai's temple, demons had begun showing up in the vicinity, probably attracted by the power the place emanated. Most of them were tourists, just passing by, the same way that if Makoto went to Greece, she'd visit the Parthenon and snap a few shots to take back home and show what a wonderful vacation she had. A few had personally known Genkai. Others were looking for a place to settle, at least for a little while, and Makoto had no qualms about it, because that had been Master Genkai's intention when she left the temple grounds in Makoto's and her friends' hands.

Word of mouth was a scary thing, as Makoto could attest to only after some time in the temple. Every day, new demons showed up on her doorstep to visit the temple, its surroundings, and maybe stay a night or two.

Before she was able to digest what was happening and how, and much, much before than she could lament her iron will to heed Genkai's last request and let her lands be a refuge to any demons that decided to stay in them, Makoto was managing a pseudo-inn in what should have been her quiet home.

As the flux of demons moving back and forth from the Demon World became a normal thing, and human society started to suspect that the newly unleashed weirdoes in their cities weren't just partaking in a strange fad, the newcomers began to adapt to human ways eagerly. When in Rome, Makoto guessed.

The point of no return came with the calls.

Until then, Makoto had resigned herself to having visitors all year round, being accommodating for everybody's sakes and letting them stay in the temple's many spare rooms. But with the calls, the room bookings began.

Makoto insisted to these people that she wasn't running a hotel, and that they could come and go as they pleased as long as they behaved inside the property. But they just didn't want to hang around and see the sights. They wanted to spend the day in the temple where the famous Genkai had lived. They insisted until Makoto caved in, because the only effort it took on her part was to have a clean, empty room when they arrived, and she felt foolish saying no.

Kurama laughed at her every time he was around when she picked up a call and had to hurry to jot down when the next group of tourists would come, and she would immediately remind him that this was sort of his fault too, which only made him feel proud.

Genkai had been a famous psychic in Japan, but it shouldn't have mattered to demons from another world. Going by logic, they shouldn't have even heard from her, and her widespread fame was baffling to Makoto until she began asking the visitors how come they knew her.

It turned out that being the person who taught some of the most impressive fighters in the Demon World tournaments, as well as Raizen's son, would make a name for you on the other side, even after death. Or, perhaps, thanks to death, as Makoto was sure that her being gone added spice to the legend.

This was her daily life when, one day, the living room's phone rang, and she grabbed the reservation book before picking it up. She wasn't able to get a word in when someone yelled at her through the speaker.

"Mako, this is an emergency!" Makoto was perplexed as she instantly recognized Fumi's voice and held the receiver at a prudent distance from her eardrums. "How do koorime have kids?"

Makoto blanked out at the question, and she only managed to say after a beat of silence, "What?"

"You heard me! Do you know if there's something weird going on with them or do they do it like everybody else?"

"Fumi, I do not understand this conversation and I do not want to be part of it."

Whatever the sound coming from Fumi was, a groan or a battle cry, Makoto had to hold the receiver even further away.

"Yukina's pregnant and Shizuru's gonna murder Kazuma!"

Makoto stared at the phone like a deer in the headlights. A vague memory of a certain piece of information that had been shared with her years ago came knocking at the back of her mind, and as she couldn't remember exactly how that conversation had gone, she decided to go back to the source.

"Wait. We need an expert."

Makoto put Fumiko on hold and dialed Kurama's cellphone number, but it wasn't Kurama who answered.

"Yo, Mako! Missing the fox, are you?"

Makoto could see Yuusuke's eyebrows wiggling just by his tone. She heard chatter around him, so she assumed they were out for a drink. "What the hell are you doing with Kurama's phone?"

"Someone's touchy. Who pissed in your afternoon coffee?"

"Yuusuke, seriously, I need Kurama right now."

"Bathroom break," Yuusuke replied, sounding more serious. "Something wrong? What's so urgent?"

She huffed. "Whatever, you'll have to do."

"Uh-what?"

"I need help, and I need you to remember something, okay?"

"Okay?" He repeated.

"Remember that time during the Dark Tournament that you said in front of me and Kurama that Yukina's brother was—" Makoto glanced around the empty room just to make sure no one was around. "You know."

Yuuske groaned. "I fucked up so hard."

"Yuusuke, this is no time for self-pity," Makoto said harshly.

"Makoto, what the hell?"

"Do you remember what Kurama said about how _koorime_ had children?"

"Woah-woah—No, wait, I need to repeat myself, _what the hell, Makoto_?"

"Augh, listen, you dumbass, Yukina is pregnant and Fumi is trying to keep Shizuru from murdering Kuwabara."

Whatever Yuusuke had been drinking, he choked on it for a handful of eternal seconds. "Kuwabara did what?!"

"That is not what I said!"

At last Makoto was able to hear Kurama's faded voice. "Yuusuke, why did you pick up my call?"

Makoto exhaled with relief. "Thank heaven!"

"Kuwabara's dead meat!" Yuusuke replied joyfully.

"Yuusuke, shut up and let me talk to him!"

The phone passed quickly to Kurama, and as soon as he took over, he asked, "What's wrong?"

Bless him and his ability to read minds. "Do not worry, but I need to confirm something urgent, and I know we talked about it before but I do not remember the details."

"What is it?"

"How do _koorime_ reproduce?"

There was an uncomfortable silence at the other end of the line, and Yuusuke had either heard her question or guessed it by his friend's reaction, because he started laughing like a madman before Kurama could reply.

"What—why do you want to—Yuusuke, keep it down, people are staring."

"Yukina is pregnant and Shizuru is about to murder Kuwabara as we speak. I need confirmation that this is not what it seems."

Now that he understood what was going on, he sounded calmer. "I obviously am in no position to confirm anything, but it doesn't have to be what it seems."

That was what Makoto had expected to hear. "Oh, thank you. What was it again?"

"Parthenogenesis."

Makoto sighed with great relief. " _I love you_ ," she said without thinking, and then she realized what she had done and added, "Not that way."

And possibly she hadn't meant that, either, but she had to say something.

After a few seconds, Kurama still hadn't replied, but what came loud and clear through the receiver was Yuusuke's exclamation. "I knew it! I was the first to notice! I—"

"Thank you for the information, bye!" Makoto spluttered, hanged the phone, and then realized she had hung upon Fumi too and dialed her number in a flash. Embarrassment could wait, now they had a life to save.

"Fumi! Is Shizuru still there?"

"I'll get her to listen! What is it? Do we have a murder in our hands?"

"Asexual reproduction!"

A guest that was passing by the living room took a look inside when he heard Makoto's out of context exclamation, but as soon as Makoto saw him he waved sheepishly and hurried along.

"Wha—they don't need men? Or anybody else?"

"They don't!"

"I could kiss you right now." Fumiko didn't hang, and Makoto heard her stomping upstairs to yell at Shizuru. " _Koorime_ don't need to bang to have kids!"

Makoto paid close attention to the conversation that ensued on the other end of the line. Meanwhile, her cellphone started to ring too, and she saw she had a text from Keiko that didn't give her any good vibes.

"What?" She heard Shizuru say.

"I told you I haven't laid a finger on her!"

"Shut up, Kazu!"

For the first time since the emergency had started, Makoto heard Yukina, who of course had to have been in the house, trying to mediate. "Please Shizuru, Kazuma hasn't done anything! What's going on?"

"Here!" Fumiko yelled, and Makoto assumed that she had shoved the phone at Shizuru because she was the next one to speak to her.

"Mako, care to clarify why I shouldn't kill my dumbass bro? Is that true, or is Fumi pulling excuses out of her ass?"

"It is true. Koorime reproduce asexually. Can you not ask Yukina?"

"Yukina is a dear, but she would say anything to protect Kazu."

"Then listen to her for two seconds and maybe we can sort this out without blood."

Shizuru seemed to consider Makoto's words for a few seconds. "I'll call a ceasefire. You come here in the meantime, and we're gonna have a girls' talk."

"It's late and I have things to do at home."

"I'm sure you do. I'll send Fumi for your favorite nori crackers."

"This is so not worth it."

"Later."

And then Shizuru hung up, leaving Makoto very alone with the consequences of an ill-timed expression of gratefulness.

She opened Keiko's text, hit her forehead against the nearest wall, took a jacket and started to make her way towards the train station.

—

The house was rife with unspoken tension, and it didn't take supernatural powers to realize. When Makoto entered the living room, she had the same feeling of nervousness she'd had the first time she had, before the Dark Tournament, though Atsuko was missing this time and Fumiko and Yukina had taken her place. Keiko was sitting on an armchair while the rest of girls were on the couch.

"Keiko? Why are you here?"

"Someone needed to be the voice of reason," Keiko said blandly.

"No one better than a teacher to explain the birds and the bees," Fumiko added.

"I believe we've clarified what's going on," Shizuru admitted from her spot between Yukina and Fumiko.

Feeling slightly less on edge, Makoto took a seat on the only empty armchair. She looked at the coffee table. The nori crackers had been a lie and she hadn't folded the laundry yet.

Yukina still seemed to be a little surprised by the commotion, but she had calmed down too. "I'm sorry, I didn't know this would be such a big deal. I should have explained better from the beginning."

"Don't. You had no way to know," Shizuru said. Makoto saw her instinctively reach for her pack of cigarettes, but she stopped mid-motion and went for the kettle on the coffee table to fill a mug for Makoto.

"Here," Keiko said, passing it on to her.

"Thank you." She looked at the contents of the mug before speaking. _Genmaicha_. "Do… pregnancies happen randomly for _koorime_?"

"No, not at all!" Yukina replied. "Once every hundred years."

"I can't believe you're that old," Fumiko mumbled, elbows on her knees and chin propped up on her hands.

"I am not old!" Yukina replied, perplexed.

"Sorry," Fumiko said with an apologetic smile, and looked elsewhere to hide her skepticism.

"I didn't know humans couldn't have kids this way," Yukina said. "Some species of demons can, and there are so many different humans that I figured some might."

"Most of us don't even get to our hundreds," Keiko replied. "And imagine the disaster if you had kids without having any say in it."

"I don't mind it," Yukina replied. "I knew I was getting close to that age, so it's okay. But," she turned her head to look at Makoto, specifically. "You can't have a baby on your own, either?"

"…No?"

"Are you sure?"

Makoto realized with horror that she wasn't and she had no way to be, and it must have shown on her face because next thing she knew, Keiko was patting her arm and saying, "Don't worry, I'm sure it isn't the case."

"I wish I could be," Makoto replied with a small voice.

"It's something to consider," Yukina said, not at all fazed. Makoto was aware that this was something perfectly normal for her, but for an outsider's point of view it was nothing short of disturbing, particularly the implication that _that_ could happen to her.

No, she'd have to make an effort to believe in Keiko.

"Where is Kuwabara?" Makoto asked, hoping to divert the subject.

"He went out," Shizuru said.

"He's with Yuusuke," Keiko added.

Makoto recalled her earlier conversation with him. "I don't think that was a good idea."

"Neither do I."

"He'll live," Shizuru said with a shrug. "Maybe it'll do him some good to shout at someone, and Kurama won't let them get too out of hand."

"I think you're underestimating those two." And overestimating Kurama's charitable streak, too, Makoto thought.

"Speaking of Yuusuke," Keiko said with a sly smile, throwing a sideways glance al Makoto, "I heard something interesting from him today."

"Really."

"I think someone might be ignoring a text of mine."

"I wonder who that could be."

Keiko's smile gained an edge as she faced Makoto, and Makoto was ready to make a hasty exit when the front door opened and in came Kuwabara, sporting an aura of determination, and behind him a grinning Yuusuke and a tired-looking Kurama.

"I've made a decision." Kuwabara announced, and then, disregarding everybody else present at the scene, he walked up to Yukina, got on one knee, took her hands and said, "Yukina, I don't care what happened or who's the baby's father. I, Kazuma Kuwabara, vow to assume responsibility for your child and you until the day I die. Will you allow me the honor of marrying you?"

In the silence that ensued, the only person that wasn't looking at everybody else in alarm and confusion was Yukina, who smiled gently at Kuwabara.

Makoto took a look around and saw Yuusuke wide-eyed and trembling with barely contained laughter, Shizuru and Keiko staring with disbelief and their mouths slightly ajar, a thoroughly weirded out Fumiko, and Kurama facepalming right behind Yuusuke.

Makoto hid her face behind her hands and made herself small with second-hand embarrassment. She did not want to be that house.

"The baby doesn't have a dad!" Fumiko blurted out. "It's a tiny Yukina clone!"

"Eh?" Kuwabara turned his attention to Fumiko. "For real?"

"Kuwabara, did you listen to anything I said?" Kurama asked.

"Well, you said you weren't sure, so—"

Shizuru slumped against the backrest, massaging her forehead. "This is the corniest thing I've heard in my life since you and Yuusuke."

Keiko gave a warning. "Shizuru, don't."

"I'm never trusting you with a secret ever—"

Yuusuke was cut off by Kuwabara's yell. "Shut up, everyone!" He was beet red and pointing accusingly at everybody except Yukina. "So what if it's corny?! I meant every word I said!"

And no more smart comments came, because how could anybody poke fun at him after that statement? Makoto was amazed at his honesty.

"I will marry you," Yukina replied, ignoring the commotion, and Kuwabara's mouth dropped like he couldn't believe his ears. "But not because of the baby. I can take care of her on my own. I'll marry you because I love you."

Shizuru finally put a cigarette to her mouth out of nervousness, though she didn't light it. The appraising look she gave Kuwabara spoke miles about what going through her head. He stared back at her, waiting for a barb, but instead Shizuru took the cigarette between her middle and index fingers and said, "I've got nothing to object. Treat each other well. But," she then pointed at Kuwabara with the cigarette hand, "Don't you dare drop your education out of some sort of deluded manly obligation to provide for them."

"I won't!" Kuwabara replied. "I'll get my degree and a job, and then we'll marry!" And then he stopped right in his tracks to say to Yukina, "If you're okay with it."

"I'm not in any hurry," she replied.

Shizuru sighed, but a faint smile appeared on her face. "Well, I think it's time to leave these two to talk."

"Agreed," Keiko said, rushing to stand up, "this is none of our business."

And so, Makoto, Fumiko and Keiko found themselves on the street along with Kurama and Yuusuke.

"That was hella awkward," Fumiko said, scratching her head. "What a day."

"You tell me," Makoto replied, shoulders drooping. "It took me two hours to get here after you called, and what for?"

Fumiko got Makoto in a friendly headlock. "Don't be a sourpuss, we missed you. And we got to see a good show for free."

"I could've lived without it," Keiko said.

"Kurama and I got a three for one deal, didn't we?" He said, ribbing his friend with an elbow.

"I'm of the same opinion as Keiko."

He clucked his tongue. "Of course you'd be."

"No, I don't think he is," Keiko intervened, taking Yuusuke by surprise as she gave Kurama an amused smile. "Let's go, Yuusuke! You're late to work!" And she took his arm and started to walk as she pulled.

"What's the point of being my own boss if I can't be late?"

"You've had enough fun today. Let them rest." And then she turned towards the other three. "You really should show up more often, Makoto. And you too, Kurama, we barely meet anymore. See you!"

Makoto looked up curiously at him, "Married to work, are we?"

"I can't deny that."

Meanwhile, Fumiko stared at the leaving couple in thought, and Makoto thought it didn't forebode anything good.

"I know I'm missing something."

"You are not," Makoto tried to reassure her in vain.

Fumiko threw suspicious looks at Makoto and Kurama, like she was sniffing something in the air but couldn't tell what. "You two aren't going out behind my back, are you?"

"Where did that come from?" Makoto replied at the same time Kurama said, "For the umpteenth time, no, we are not."

"Just checking," she said flippantly, and waved the question away. "I know neither of you come out of your caves often enough to see anyone." Then she changed the subject, like she hadn't made everything awkward for Makoto again. "Are you going to your parents' tonight? I'm sure they want to see you."

"No, I need to take care of things at the temple. Five new guests showed up today," Makoto said, and truthfully, she would have liked to stay, now that she had made the trip, but obligations came first. "But maybe this weekend?"

"I'll hold on to that," Fumi said, making it sound like a threat. "You better show up. And then we can have a sleepover or something, for old time's sake."

Makoto held back a snort. "Sure."

"It's a deal!" She grinned at them. "I'll be going home now. You two take care and don't drop dead working!"

"I will make sure not to," Makoto promised.

"I think it won't come to that," Kurama said in good humor.

When Fumiko was out of earshot Makoto asked, "Really?"

"I don't spend that much time at the office."

"Now I know that is a lie."

"I'm here, am I not?"

"How many hours of overtime have you put in this week?"

He replied instead, "It's a small company."

Makoto smiled at that, but she didn't retort. Instead, she checked her wristwatch. "I need to get to the station before I lose my train home."

"I'll walk you, if you don't mind the company."

"Have I ever?"

Truth be told, she was feeling a tad nervous, which hadn't been common when she was near Kurama for a long time.

But that wasn't enough to take from her mind a question that had been at the back of her mind since she'd been told of Yukina's pregnancy, and had only gotten more important given the day's events.

"Who is going to tell Hiei?" She asked Kurama when Kuwabara's house was out of sight.

He shrugged off the question. "I suppose he'll have to find on his own."

"You are good friends."

"I have no means to contact him."

"But you could pull some strings."

He tilted his head. "If I wanted to."

"Which you do not."

"I think it needs to be Yukina's decision," he replied, sounding very reasonable.

"I agree. I also think you simply do not want to be in that conversation."

"Thank you for saving me the explanations. I've had my fill of them today."

Makoto felt slightly guilty for that. "I can imagine. Did…?"

She was going to ask about what had happened after she hung up, but she decided it was best not to bring it up.

Kurama didn't let it go, though. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

Kurama peered curiously at her. He wasn't acting any different than usual, and Makoto was grateful for it.

But she caved in to the pressure. "All right. Did Yuusuke nag you a lot?"

"Oh. No, only the expected amount," he replied with a wry smile.

"Sorry for that, I was not thinking. Fumi was pressing me for an answer and Yuusuke was getting on my nerves, so—"

"It's okay, Mako," he said with a smile. "I didn't mind. It's just odd to hear you being so expressive."

She looked down for a moment so her hair hid her face from view. "Um, well. Forget about it. I did not mean anything by it."

Sometimes Makoto missed the days where her default state was swallowing her words instead of sharing them. She did not miss, though, how alone she was, in retrospect, even if she didn't feel so back then. She would, nowadays.

They walked for a while in companionable silence, until the train station was in sight and Kurama spoke up.

"Is that true?"

"What?" Makoto thought she had misunderstood what he was getting at, so her first reaction was to seek confirmation.

"Did you truly not mean it?"

The question stopped Makoto in her tracks and she panicked, thinking that she had _almost_ been able to sweep her stupid comment under the rug. If only she hadn't brought it up.

She had guessed this moment would come sooner or later, but she had hoped for later. Much, much later. Preferably when she had been able to sort out her feelings on the matter, which, admittedly, only seemed to get more tangled as the years went by.

How many years had passed already since she and Kurama had become friends? Six? How had time gone by that fast?

She didn't want to answer his question, because she didn't want to lie. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Perhaps." He was so annoyingly vague that the reply did nothing for Makoto's nerves. "But that depends on your answer."

She had no way out of it, and it was all her fault. And Fumi's, and of _koorime_ biology.

"I did not mean it that way," she said truthfully, and she could've left it at that, but she had a feeling that that was the worst thing she could do, and she knew better than ignoring her instincts, so she added, "at that moment." And she couldn't force herself to look at Kurama's face as she kept talking, in part because she felt heat rising to her cheeks, but mostly because she was afraid of his reaction. "But that does not make it any less true."

Tentatively, she looked up at him as she unconsciously fidgeted with her hands, a habit that, despite not being as prevalent now, kept coming back when she was feeling especially anxious.

"Can you say something?" Makoto pleaded, because she was fairly certain that if the silent treatment lasted any longer her soul would depart from her body.

"Sorry," he replied quickly. "I wasn't expecting that. And it took me a moment to decipher."

"You… were… not?" Because, while Makoto had long ago decided to put her feelings for Kurama in the back burner and leave them there in hopes they'd flicker out on their own, that wish had not come true, and she had assumed someone as perceptive as Kurama had to have figured it out. "You honestly had not noticed?"

"It could have been wishful thinking. You…" He closed his eyes for a moment, and he said with a pained expression. "Makoto, I hope you know that you're an awfully difficult person to read."

"Oh." She was sure that he didn't mean it in a positive sense, but she thought it was. "Thank you. I try."

"And that was the most convoluted confession I've heard in my life."

"So sorry for not sending you love letters like your fangirls used to, with those little heart seals and all," Makoto hissed, flustered and resembling a bristling cat. A cornered one whose only escape was running forward.

"You know I didn't read those."

"And that was bare minimum decency." Makoto took a deep breath to steel herself, because she needed to put the matter to rest as soon as possible. "Regardless, it doesn't change anything. I don't expect anything from you, and I won't act weird around you, so please…" The words, quick as she was uttering them, died before they left her mouth, because she realized how pathetic she was sounding.

Please, don't avoid me.

Please, don't stop being my friend.

She couldn't bring herself to say that out loud, even if it was how she felt, and her gaze fell to her shoes.

"Mako," he said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

She still refused to look at him.

"Mako, I have feelings for you too."

Her head snapped up . "You do?!" Her eyes narrowed as she tried to find a clue in his, but of course her powers never worked when she wanted to. "Are you saying that to shut me up?"

He sounded dismayed at the accusation. "I wouldn't lie about something like this."

She felt a weight lift from her shoulders, enough that she was able to let out a small laugh. "I like implication that you are a liar."

"It's not a badge I wear with pride, but I have to own it."

Makoto smiled a bit at that, but it was brief. "So… what now?"

She was feeling very lost, and she had no idea what this would mean for them.

"I don't know," Kurama replied, and he seemed unsure about how to proceed. "This whole situation is as alien for me as it is for you."

"That makes sense," she muttered. She doubted very much that relationships in the Demon World worked the same as between humans, especially taking into account the kind of life he had lead before.

It wasn't a comfortable line of thought. It was strange enough to Makoto to think that someone had taken an interest in her, but for that someone to be Kurama, of all people… Sure, she had hoped. But Makoto hoped for many things without believing they could ever be true.

And Kurama had lived so much, and she'd always felt so small next to him, that the possibility opening up before her felt nothing short of intimidating.

"I don't… I have never expected anything from you, either," he said, bringing her out of her thoughts. "Nothing has to change."

"It doesn't?" She asked, because she wanted to make sure that he truly meant it.

"It doesn't. We can make it up as we go. Like always."

And he smiled at her, and Makoto couldn't help but smile back.

"I think that is for the best."

"Glad we agree, then," he replied with a smile of his own that he dropped soon. "Now, don't take this as me wanting you to leave, but the train…"

"Yes, I should hurry. I can go from here alone. I do not think I will get lost," she said. The station was just a crossroad away, and she needed some space to think. She was sure he did, too.

"See you soon?"

"Will you be able to make some time this weekend?"

"You can count on it."

"I will." And then, before leaving, she leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek before retreating quickly with a mischievous smile. "Bye!"

The look of surprise on Kurama's face was worth dealing with her inner, scandalized thoughts for being so forward on the way home.

The magnitude of what had happened only hit her when she was alone, and she passed the trip curled up into a ball, hiding her face, torn between giggling like a schoolgirl and wanting to crawl under a rock.

—

A few months later, Makoto accompanied Yukina to a doctor appointment that Kuwabara couldn't get to due to exam season. While it was true that, technically, Makoto was unemployed and not studying anymore, her friends had a tendency to forget that she was actually busy in the mountains, so she was the go-to person when they needed a favor.

She wasn't going to complain about this one, first because Makoto was not about to let Yukina go alone if it depended on her, and second, because she sometimes missed her company from the time they stayed together at Genkai's. She had always been very pleasant to be around, both in spirit and actions.

She and Kuwabara deserved each other, she thought.

Yukina was already visibly pregnant, and, according to what she had heard from Fumi and Shizuru, neighbors were talking about it. But Yukina didn't seem to be bothered at all to be the target of the rumor mill.

"I don't like the things they are saying bout Kazuma, though," Yukina, worried, told Makoto while they were in the waiting room. It was a small clinic that had demon staff. A few of them had popped up since the barrier had lifted, because regular doctors didn't have the training to treat demons. "And I don't know what to tell them. Because I could say that Kazuma isn't the father, but that wouldn't be fair. As long as he takes care of her like a father, he'll be. Does that sound strange to you?"

"Not at all," Makoto replied. "Blood ties only have as much weight as you give them."

"I knew you would get it," Yukina said, regaining some of her good humor. "But I'm worried this will hurt Kazuma's reputation. I've been paying attention. Unmarried mothers aren't very well regarded in this world, are they?"

"People are quick to judge," Makoto admitted, "but they are bound to get more open-minded as time goes by."

"I hope so. And I hope they won't hold anything against her or Kazuma when we're married."

"Those people don't matter, Yukina."

"That's what he tells me, too." She smiled at her. "You are a kind person, Makoto. And Shizuru, and her dad, and everyone who's been watching after me all this time. I've been so lucky since Kazuma came to rescue me."

Makoto had never heard the details of what had transpired when Yukina was kidnapped, and she felt it wasn't her place to ask.

"Was it love at first sight?" She asked instead. She remembered how Kuwabara used to act around Yukina, and how she looked like a fish out of water every time he made a big display of feelings.

Yukina let out a demure but genuine laugh, "No, of course it wasn't. I didn't even think I could love anybody back then." She smiled to herself with a tinge of sadness. "I'm grateful for the time Master Genkai let me spend with her. I wasn't prepared to live with among humans. The people I've met here are so honest, so passionate… so different from what I knew back home. And the ones I met while I was locked up…" She trailed off, and looked absent for a moment. "It was too much. It still is, sometimes. But I think I'm getting better."

"You seem more open than you were. And much happier."

Not unlike Makoto, although she didn't doubt for a second that Yukina was a much stronger person than her, and all her troubles paled in comparison of what she'd had to overcome.

"I feel like I found my place at last." She stayed lost in her thoughts for a moment, and with conspiratorial smile, she asked, "Do you want to know when I really started to pay attention to Kazuma?"

Makoto was more interested than she'd care to admit, especially because she had been curious for some time about why would a demon who had lived so long take an interest in what was basically a regular person. "When?"

"When he started coming to the temple every weekend with you. Often he'd just be there for a few hours and had to go back, but he made the trip every time he could. Remember?" Makoto nodded, and Yukina continued. "I wasn't treating him any differently than any of you, but he kept coming back. I didn't understand his interest. I thought he'd forget as soon as I was out of his line of sight. But he didn't. And he never asked anything of me. He liked my company and wanted to check on me despite my disinterest, week after week. And I started to look forward to seeing him." Her fond smile grew and her cheeks took a pink hue. "So when his dad proposed that I move in with them, I felt safe to say yes. And he's still the same way. He's never taken anything for granted. And he always tries to understand."

That didn't answer Makoto's own doubts, but she was interested, nonetheless. "And you don't mind his age?"

"It makes me wonder," Yukina conceded. "I don't know if what I'm doing is the right thing. Or maybe there will come a time when he'll find someone else." Reflexively, she rested a hand on her belly. "I wonder if he'll mind if he never has a child of his own blood. I'm not sure I could do that."

"I think he will be fine with whatever you decide," Makoto said with conviction. "I have never known anybody more lovestruck than him, and I knew many lovestruck teens in my time."

Yukina giggled. "You always talk as if you're much older than you are."

"With everything I have seen, it is hard to feel any other way."

Yukina leveled a thoughtful stare at Makoto and asked, "Tell me, what do you see now when you look at me?"

The question brought Makoto back to that evening at the temple that now seemed so far away.

And Yukina still shone so bright, so peaceful, that Makoto had no doubts to answer. "An outstanding woman walking the path she has chosen."

"I think I am doing okay, then," she said, and she turned her head away from Makoto to quickly wipe her face, and then she announced, eyes twinkling, "I have decided on a name."

—

The baby was born seven months after the infamous announcement, and, immediately, Kuwabara's father ran to a jewelry store to make a necklace for the girl with the one tear Yukina had shed during the delivery. She had explained it was a tradition for _koorime_ , and it was one of the few things she wanted to keep from her home country.

The girl was named Shizune, and though Shizuru had been warned in advance and Yukina's choice had made her uncharacteristically emotional at the time, she was on the verge of bawling her eyes out when Yukina introduced her daughter to her, and a beaming Kuwabara put the baby in her arms.

Makoto was never privy as to how Hiei found out about Shizune, but she eventually found out through Fumiko and Kurama, who had respectively heard from Shizuru and Kuwabara, that he paid the clinic a visit the first night Yukina stayed over.

The clinic, not Yukina herself. Shizuru noticed him hanging out on a tree outside the window. But when she told Yukina, she flashed Shizuru her best smile and said that she was very glad to hear.

Shizune, in due time, would grow into what Makoto would also call an outstanding woman, though in a different sense than her mother. But that was another story, best reserved for another time.


End file.
